Cid awoke with a heavy weight in his chest. It hurt, and he could hardly breathe. The pain seemed odd, because the wound wasn't that high. Cid sat up, groaning in agony, hands clutching his wound. When he was fully upright, the pilot breathed out sharply, not even aware he was holding his breath.

Cid glanced around the room, the pain in his chest feeling tighter. What the hell was it? He swung his legs out of bed, to try and find someone, cringing at his wound again. His arm held tight to compress the pain. Cid skimmed the other rooms, to see his fellow AVALANCHE members sleeping off their own pain. He stopped, shocked at first, then smiled to see Vincent resting peacefully in one of the rooms. Cid made his way in, harboring a slight limp, and sat down beside his lover.

"Vince?" He leaned over him, tracing his fingers through his hair. The coldness of his skin made Cid's hand stop against the side of his cheek. Vincent's pale skin always made it look as if he'd be colder anyway… but anyone who'd ever touched him knew differently. Though he didn't just feel cold… he felt fake… almost rubbery. "No." Cid moved his hand over Vincent's mouth, trying to feel for breath that wasn't there. He bent over, laying his ear directly over the gunman's heart. The steady melody had fallen silent.

"No." He repeated, in a sob, burrying his face in Vincent's chest. Cid slowly lifted his head to see him, and traced a hand along his cheek. "My baby. You were finally gonna let me make you happy." His arms gently wrapped around the slender form, as if he could shatter in his arms. "Damn you, Chaos. Why couldn't you just leave him alone?"

Vincent's head fell back, at an obscure angle, forcing his eyes to open slightly. A small slit of glowing crimson caught the pilot's eye. He just stared at it, watching the slit slowly open more and more before him. Even in death, that hypnotic glow did not deminish. How ironic, that something that forced so much pain could make you seem alive. Cid had to keep checking for himself, that his beloved was really gone. Not just because his mind wanted to deny it, but his eyes kept playing tricks on him. They seemed to be convinced of a small rise and fall, in the gunman's chest. As if breathe had returned to it.

After a short while, Cid stood back up, forgetting his own pain. He pulled the covers from Vincent's body, and lifted him into his arms. "Come on, Baby. You don't need to stay here."

xXx

Throughout their history togethor, Cid could occasionally force little snippets from Vincent's past. At least, from what he remembered. Just small things from missions, even to inside jokes he had with his friends. But one thing he seemed a bit distant when discussing was the mention of a forest.

A small forest around where he grew up. His eyes would haze in a nastalgic fashion, but it seemed the most natural. The ex-Turk and his father had a yearly tradition of going on campouts, or just taking walks through that forest. Anytime they wanted to escape the city life. Vincent had grown to know every aspect of the forest, but there was one tree, a few rows from a small stream, that he sorta claimed for his own.

A tall Oak, that had perfect climbing branches, that stretched high and wide, with many creases to hide in.

Vincent had also told him a lot about his father. About how little he knew about his death, and the pain and fear his own imagination forced him to see cause of it. He also mentioned that he and his partner had made a sort of memorial to the good doctor. Deep in the wood, a small cross in front of his favorite tree. It acted like a grave. Since Grimoire's body was never found, they couldn't really have an actual one.

Cid trudged through the trees, Vincent craddled against his back. He panted in exhaustion, feeling the tiredness his injuries caused, but somehow still couldn't feel the pain.

A small wooden cross came into view, resting in front of a large tree. The sound of rushing water flooded his ears, as he read the cross… 'G. Valentine'. It was proof of how much Vincent came here, since Cid could find it from only a description. Cid looked up the tree smiling. He could almost picture a smaller version of his lover twining himself between those branches. His attention settled back onto the weight on his back. The long dark hairs spilling over his shoulders. He never saw Vincent as being heavy, but he didn't know how much longer he could hold him.

Cid made his way over to the tree, laying the gunman where he curled up against the trunk. He traced a hand along the pale cheek, kissing him gently against the forehead. The pilot then slumped onto the ground, in front of the cross, examining the letters. There was definitely great meaning behind it, but the decaying wood didn't seem worthy of him. He'd have to make a new one.

Cid's fingers curled in the grass, pulling it out. He did this a few more times, before digging his fingers into the dirt and tried to dig through. However; the ground was hard, and he could only scrape off the top layer. Cid searched around a bit, before he found a small part of a large branch. He slammed the pointed end into the ground, digging into the hard dirt. After he'd broken through the packed layer of dirt, Cid found it much easier to push his hands into the dirt and pull it out, and off to the side. The cross was strategically placed between two big roots, so the smaller ones he ran into were easy enough to break through.

Dirt continued to push it's way under his nails, the pressure starting to hurt enough where he'd have to stop and pick it out every once in a while. Eventually the hole got deep enough where it was almost over his head. He grasped onto the side, his shaking arms somehow lifting him out of the hole. Cid fell back, panting, his legs still dangling in the Earth. His coated hands came up to wipe the sweaty dirt from his brow. A tightening twisted his stomach. It felt a lot like a hunger cramp.

When Cid had caught his breath, he looked over at his beloved against the tree. He smiled, feeling his tears trying to push their way out. "Alright, Babe." He flipped over, pushing himself up. Sweat still streaked the pilot's face, as he crawled over. Cid lifted his hands to brush Vincent's face, when he realized they were still covered in dirt. He made a point to wipe them on his already dirty pants before he touched him. His thumb brushed under those soft pink lips. "Time for you to go home." Cid gently leaned forward, placing his lips against Vincent's. He pulled the limp body into his arms, using his hand to steady the detatched head. He allowed his imagination to roam, and let his mind tell him that those motionless lips were pushing back against him.

Cid brushed at his tears, pulling away from Vincent, and stood, holding the slender form in his arms. The pilot made his way over to the fresh hole. He pulled Vincent tighter into him, before jumping in, so as not to hurt the body.

Cid layed Vincent gently into the soft dirt. He tried to stretch out the long legs, but the hole had been too small. A short laugh escaped his lips. Oh well. He had forced a part of himself to believe Vincent was sleeping anyway… so let's make him look more like it. Instead of stretching him out, like it's supposed to be done, Cid curled Vincent's body into the fetal position. Resting on his side, arms supporting his head, like they were pushed under a pillow. Cid smiled at the sight. Even in death, he was still so beautiful. He knelt down, brushing a hand through the gunman's hair, and kissed him on the side of his head. "Sleep tight, Vincent."

Cid pulled himself out of the hole again, and had to stop once more to catch his breath. The cramp in his stomach felt as if it had twisted. When he could move again, Cid turned himself over to look in the hole. He just stared at the peaceful form curled inside of the grave, and almost didn't want to push dirt in on him. But he had to protect the man he loved. So, with that in mind, it got easier.

Finally, the crude hole was filled back in, a small hump where that beautiful form had displaced. Cid smiled, content with his task, as tears still cut across his cheeks. Still on all fours, over the mound of dirt, Cid leaned forward and kissed the ground. "I love you, baby. I promised your daddy I'd take care of ya… and I'm gonna make sure nobody ever bothers you. You deserve to sleep peacefully."

Cid's smile, turned into confusion with the sight of small red drops falling into the dirt. He brought a hand to his lips, realizing that he was bleeding. The cramp in his stomach grew sharper, and the pilot clamped a hand to the pain. He felt his stomach was too hot… and slightly wet. His mind immediately thought of sweat, from all the work on burrying his love. But when he drew his hand back, it was coated in warm blood. His eyes widened at the sight of it. Oh yea… he was hurt.

The memory of his injury seemed to bring the pain back into full effect. His breathing sharpened, and he collapsed onto the mound over Vincent. The temperature of Cid's body rose sharply, and he breathed in the hot dirt surrounding him. The pain seemed to dull. Cid's vision started to blur, body going limp.

The pilot smiled weakly. "Heh… what do ya know, Vince……… I think yer dad may be psychic." His smile calmed, eyes gently closing into the endless sleep, to join his beloved within the lifestream.

--

AN: bye bye Ciddy :hug:.... see... i made it happy =D... don't kill me