Trauma

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AN: Damn, I'm SO sorry for making you all wait for this chapter. I had forgotten about this completely - how bad is that? But I had a lot going on and my mind was pretty much focused on Journey, so... Anyway, onward to the angst...

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The escort team was nowhere to be seen when they returned outside, and daylight had given way completely to night. The street past Seventh Heaven had taken on a busted water pipe since their time inside and was spraying out violently, flooding the pathway. Tifa directed them down a side street to bypass it. That was when they were ambushed.

The three of them had all been lost in their own thoughts, none had noticed anything of the ordinary – like why the street lights were blown out, or why there was no one else about.

It hit them all simultaneously. At the exact same time as a sharp pain erupted from the back of his arm, Cid heard Tifa cry out and Vincent grunt. The pilot groped for the dart in his arm as his head clouded rapidly, aware in his peripheral vision that three more darts hit Vincent, who stumbled but refused to go down. Tifa fell to her knees and a second later Cid felt the impact on his own, having lost all sensitivity and equilibrium. His limps stopped responding and before he knew it he was cheek down on the cold ground, trying desperately to cling to consciousness.

Before he finally succumbed to the tranquilizer, he saw Vincent whirling around in the source direction, a red glowing energy enveloping his body, his eyes yellow in rage. But four more darts buried themselves in his torso, causing him to bellow as control on his demons slipped – but his body recoiled as yet another flurry of shapes hit him. He faltered on his feet for a long moment. The last thing Cid saw was Vincent falling.

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Reeve studied the x-rays in the WRO infirmary, troubled by the small object inside Vincent's skull pointed out to him by Geoni. She was reading some stapled graphs beside him, having been escorted to the WRO with Yuffie to cooperate with Jackson, as he knew more of Vincent's medical details than she did – but even put together it was still very little.

"I would have expected Vincent's body to reject this… object," Reeve said, his brown eyes flitting over the x-rays. "Wouldn't it have forced the intrusion out before healing over it?"

"Well, in Vincent's case, I would have said yes," Jackson said from behind them both, his chin in hand pensively. "But obviously that didn't happen. To be honest, we can only speculate until we have him here. Then we can perform some tests and get some answers."

"Vincent won't be keen on coming back to the infirmary," Yuffie said from her perch on Jackson's office desk. "Let alone put through invasive tests. He might be Mr. Memory Loss but he still ain't a big fan of medical stuff.

"Cid will just have to convince him," Reeve sighed. He stared at the light-board, lost in thought for a long moment. "If those Retrievers are responsible for this object it can't be anything good…"

"Where are they, anyway?" Yuffie said, sliding off the desk to peer out the door window. "You called them hours ago."

Reeve checked his watch and frowned slightly. "They should have been here by now." He pulled out his phone and selected Cid's number. It rang and rang with no answer. Silently, with an increasing frown, Reeve canceled and selected Tifa's number. It, too, rang on without a pick up. "No answer… from either of them." He lifted his worried eyes to the others. "I have a bad feeling…"

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Cid drifted into consciousness slowly, aware of the pain firstly throbbing away inside the back of his head. He winced, his head lolling on a cold, hard surface. His eyes were closed, but even so a bright light was glaring at him, and despite this his eyelids peeled open. He couldn't make anything out until he'd adjusted to the blinding white, after which he found himself staring at an unfamiliar white tiled ceiling.

He tried to sit up but something restrained him, and for a moment his sleep-addled mind couldn't comprehend what to do next. Luckily, the haze cleared and he looked down to find his wrists bound to the table he was on by restraining straps; his arm swathe gone but his cast remained. A second further revealed a larger one across his chest, uncomfortably tight.

Immediately he tested the straps around his wrists, pulling against them for any leeway, but they were tied well, and there was no room for wriggling free. He tore his focus from the futile endeavor and studied his surroundings. His blood ran cold.

It appeared to be a medical room. Various advanced machines and equipment stood against the walls around him, a ring of threatening technology. There were several multi-jointed spot lights poised above him; only one of them was on but it was harsh and painful. Cid squinted past it to see a group of monitors on the wall behind displaying graphs and readings that he couldn't understand. He did, however, read his own name above one of the graphs, eliciting another icy sensation through his veins.

"Shit," he swore under his breath, returning to the pointless attempt at freeing his right hand. His heart was beginning to race; he had a really bad feeling. He could sense Vincent nearby, and that itself threw his body into alarm mode. He never wanted Vincent to be in this kind of of environment ever again.

"Subject is conscious, I see," came a cool, toadying tone of voice.

Cid's head jerked around to see, a man in a conventional white lab coat, slicked, brown hair and a smile that belonged under the sole of Cid's boot – of which had been stripped from his feet. In fact, his clothing had all but been taken away, leaving him in a pair of white boxers. Exposed.

"Who the fuck are you?" Cid demanded, watching the man approach and study him with a disdainful scrutiny. "Where's Vincent? What've yer done with him?"

"Concern for your partner first and foremost, admirable," the man commented, latching his hands before him as though this were a conference. "You can detect him nearby, can you not?"

Cid glared. "What the fuck do you want?" He growled, each word clear and laced aggression.

The man appeared unbothered by his tone, in fact he adopted a vaguely patronizing façade of interest as he began to circle the pilot. "You were quite the thorn in our side initially," he began, like a detective unveiling a clue. "However your interference has consequently brought some intriguing scientific discoveries to light." He stopped above Cid's head, causing the blond to glower up at his face. "Tell me of this bond that you share with Vincent Valentine."

"Fuck you…" Cid snarled.

"We expected your usual brand of disobedience," the man said, his nose wrinkled mildly in distaste. "But consider this incentive." He produced a small device from his coat pocket and pressed a small button.

Barely a second had passed when Cid felt it – Vincent in pain. He instantly knew the stakes being played.

"Stop – " He said quickly, amazed he had managed to keep his emotions level, even as he could feel the rage bubbling under his skin. "You bastard, stop… don't yer dare fuckin' hurt him…"

Something akin to triumph flickered across the scientist's face. "Amazing… you can sense his pain. Is it a two-way rapport?" He waved the device tauntingly. "I'd appreciate truthful answers."

Close to snapping point, wanting nothing more than to pummel the man's face into a bloody mess, Cid grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached, but he bit back his scathing insults. "Yes," he hissed, his eyes burning into the other man's.

Nodding, the scientist walked over to stand before the monitors, examining the charts constantly flickering. "Incredible… absolutely incredible. Nowhere in the history of this planet has there ever been a documented case of ESP." He gazed dreamily at the readings. "It has, until this day, merely been a mark of fiction and vague speculation at best." He turned back to Cid. "And now we have two living specimens. Chaos is truly an extraordinary being, is it not, Mr. Highwind?"

"This is all about Chaos…" Cid realized.

"Indeed it was," the man returned to Cid's side, examining a screen by the pilot's side. "Until you literally fell into the equation. You see, the scientific community has been desperate to acquire any viable material pertaining to the Weapons created by the Planet." He paused, a sick smile playing at his thin lips. "How fortunate for us that Dr. Crescent broke all ethical laws and did the impossible: implant one such Weapon into a human body, unwittingly giving the entire community the opportunity to study it at a genetic level. No more looking from afar, no speculative guesswork based on visual research. No, now we have it in our grasps, delivered in the manageable containment of a human host." He gesticulated with a hand. "But imagine our surprise when we discovered Chaos DNA within yourself…"

Cid felt his blood run cold as the man's cold, brown eyes turned to his, a light of menacing dancing behind them.

"You probably know this, but understand if not, that Vincent's existence defies the laws of science. The human body could never be capable of sustaining something as powerful as a Weapon, but the combination of Hojo's experiments with Lucrecia's ludicrous thesis put to practice proved to be the right mix of insanity to create what Vincent Valentine is today." The scientist cocked his head in mock thoughtfulness. "Therefore, we were all quite surprised to find Chaos' genetic material inside you. Especially considering the fact that you're still alive. Your part in the equation led us to discover a remarkable activity within a part of the brain that is dormant in the rest of the human population." He paused for effect, enjoying the weight of the discovery as it hung in the air between them. "Identical to that of Vincent Valentine's. I have to thank you, Mr. Highwind, for this important scientific breakthrough. You see, you are now quite the specimen, as well. Not quite as important as Vincent, but your body has been altered to compensate for the new genetic addition, and has created a psychic link between your two minds that allows you to sense, feel and otherwise know information about the other. Am I right?"

"Sounds like yer've got all the fuckin' answers," Cid spat, forcing the panic, the trepidation, from his expression. "So let us go. Now."

His words amused the man, which only fueled the pilot's rage. "The most important discovery of a lifetime, and you're asking me to let you go? Come now, you're not that naïve."

As he spoke, Cid could feel stirrings of pain and fear becoming increasingly stronger. They were torturing Vincent with their medical tools; he was petrified of them; he had been since Hojo's grasp.

"I do have one regret," the man began, although his tone was clearly in contradiction to his words - evidenced by the fact he was smiling. "In the experimental practices you will both be put through, you will undoubtedly suffer major brain damage, and the Planet will have lost its best source of aeronautic-advancement. A consolation would be that your participation will pave the way for scientists everywhere to unlock the hidden potential in us all. I mean, who doesn't want longevity? Who doesn't want the ability to read minds?"

Cid stared in utter shock. He had never imagined such a situation. He was scared. He was outright scared shitless. He'd never envisioned such a nightmare, especially not one of Vincent's. The thought of being restrained in a sterile white room, while men in white lab coats cut into his brain, was downright terrifying. He had never wanted to experience the pain Vincent had gone through, despite occasionally wanting to understand it, so to find himself in such a situation sent his pulse hammering against his chest and his skin prickling in fear. But above his self-preservation instincts, his concern for Vincent's welfare was stronger, and the fear that he couldn't stop the experiments far outweighed that for his own safety.

"Wait –!" He called as the scientist began to leave. Cid's mouth was dry as the man turned back to him. "Yer the reason Vincent's lost his memory, aren't yer?" The man gave him a look, but Cid persisted. "If I'm gonna be science fodder, at least tell me what yer did to him."

The scientist considered before relenting to the question. "Yes. The men who tragically died in that explosion were armed with a highly advanced microchip, which was shot into Vincent's skull. It emits a specific, low-frequency electronic pulse that allows it to go unnoticed by his aggressive constitution. It was crucial the chip not be rejected by his body, for it also had another purpose: disrupting his memory engrams. Fortunately, it came with another side effect – that being Vincent's recently lowered tolerance to medical drugs."

Never had Cid wanted to kill someone before. The bloodthirsty rage welling up inside of him demanded vengeance simply for the casual way in which this bastard was referring to the hell he had put Vincent through. But he swallowed the roar threatening to burst out.

"Why?" Cid demanded. "Why take his memories away? What possible fuckin' reason do yer have for that?"

The man smiled. It sent a bolt of ice straight to Cid's stomach. "That, Mr. Highwind, is crucial to the original project organized before we stumbled upon your delightful involvement." He stepped closed to Cid, his eyes burning with a passion Cid could and would never voluntarily understand. "No one officially knew that, all those years ago, the late President Shinra authorized the investigation into human experimentation. The project went to the one and only genetic scientist capable of both the feat and moral neglect: Hojo. Furthermore, in order for this project to benefit, Hojo needed a young, preferably male specimen in the prime of his years with an excellent medical record." The man paused, his eyes boring into Cid's. "Vincent was chosen to die. It was all planned. He was assigned to protect Dr. Crescent and Hojo during their supposedly harmless research… but protect them from what? He didn't ask, it wasn't his job to, and that was why he was selected."

Cid realized he'd been holding back his breath, and released it on a single exhale, mouth agape as he stared. "The President knew what he was sendin' Vincent to…?"

"Of course he did. He wanted a weapon that would win him a war far quicker than SOLDIER ever could. Hojo, even limited to the technological advances of those days, managed to create a human being that could shapeshift. Imagine the implications: this weapon could infiltrate the enemy in any guise without detection and destroy the heads before war could break out. The power and fear Shinra would gain expelled any moral that might have interfered. However Hojo progressed only so far before he deemed the project a failure, endowing Vincent with a limited metamorphosis ability. As you probably know, Vincent lost all synaptic brain activity – in simple terms he died while his heart continued to beat – and was discarded… However, Dr. Crescent saw the opportunity to prove her thesis, and it is fortunate that she did. Though, after she had successfully integrated the Chaos gene into Vincent's body and restored his life, Hojo regained possession of him, but by then he proved too powerful to restrain, and Hojo was forced to lock him away, until the time when medical advances gave him the tools to continue his original work… We, Mr. Highwind, have the technology and medical advances to carry on what he started. By wiping Vincent's memories, we have the power to control him more efficiently. No attachments, no past feelings, no resentments and no defiance. He will be the perfect weapon."

"You fuckin' bastard," Cid spat, shaking with absolute rage. "He's a fuckin' human bein'! Doesn't that mean anythin' to you?!"

"The scientific aspects and the unrefined, raw power far outweigh the life of one man," the scientist said coolly. "Aside from you, Vincent has nothing really, no family to anchor him to this reality. Eventually, when we have gained all the knowledge we can, we will find a way to sever your psychic connection to him, and he will have absolutely nothing to hold him back from our grasps."

Cid was literally speechless. His heart was hammering against his ribcage so hard it hurt, but overwhelming his mind was the very real feeling of Vincent in pain. So much pain. Cid was petrified – but not for himself.

The scientist seemed to decipher Cid's expression, for he cocked his head, intrigued. "You can no doubt feel your partner's emotions. I expect they're quite strong; even with no memory he is showing excessive fear towards the medical team. I have so many questions regarding that, but I suspect I won't be getting any cooperation."

In spite of himself, a delirious laugh escaped Cid. "Yer fuckin' right!" Before he could yell anything else, a bolt of intense agony struck him and his head snapped back against the hard table surface as he gasped. They were torturing Vincent… they were hurting him… he was screaming in pain through their link. Cid gritted his teeth, his face twisted by anguish. This couldn't be happening… This had to be one of Vincent's nightmares, it wouldn't be the first time Cid had witnessed them, had felt the pain and fear indirectly.

But this was real.

The scientist had left the room, but Cid had barely noticed. He couldn't stop listening to his senses, they were feeding him Vincent's stats, delivering an intense stream of information that had always been calm and organized. Now it raged into his mind. He had the option to close it off, to push it to his subconscious – but he couldn't. No matter how awful the feeling of Vincent's suffering, Cid couldn't let go of the string, even as every vibration brought him closer to losing his mind.

"Vincent," He gasped.

It occurred to him that any moment a team of heartless bastards in white coats could enter. It spurred him to action. He struggled with everything he had against the straps binding his wrists, wriggling and squirming until the skin was raw and bleeding. The broken bone in his left arm was screaming painfully, the unhealed injuries from the explosion ached deeply, but his agony was nothing to Vincent's. Nevertheless, he wouldn't stop struggling. He didn't – not even when his right wrist popped out of the socket under his relentless struggles. He bit his lip hard, puncturing it, drawing blood.

"Nnnn – c'mon!" He cried, throwing his head back. But he tried, and he tried. The straps were too just secure. His hope began to wain, weighing his heart, turning his insides to ice. "Vincent," he choked. "I'm sorry…"

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