Journey
AN: I'm a bad author, made you wait a long time again. Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint you, it gave me a lot of trouble. More notes at the end.
/
Their stop at Rocket Town was a quick one. Most of the crew pitched in to help bring food aboard from the local store while Cid took a quick trip to his home to change into clean, untorn clothes. To be on the safe side he stuffed some extras into a duffle bag and when he returned to the ship everyone was ready to depart. Shera was reluctant to leave, having found her time back onboard the Highwind enjoyable.
"Your friend Tifa was telling me what all of you are planning to do," Shera said to Cid as they gathered on the ground beneath the airship, watching the crew lug the last of their stock aboard. Avalanche and Bugenhagen stood patiently on the outer deck, waiting to wave Shera goodbye. "You won't take any dangerous risks, will you?"
"Shera, we're tryin' to save the fuckin' planet," Cid started. "This whole mission thing is a dangerous risk."
"Well, promise me you'll be careful," she pressed, blinking her brown eyes pleadingly at him. "You've got the Tiny Bronco to repair. Who's going to do that if you die?"
Cid struggled to contain a laugh. Shera excelled at some technical aspects more than Cid. She was a very intelligent scientist, whose work had made the Shinra space rocket possible. Together they had once been a brilliant duo. He was sure she wouldn't find repairing the Tiny Bronco that difficult.
"Fine, woman, I promise," he said, propping his free hand on his hip. "Besides… I've got some apologizin' to do."
"Don't think about that," she scowled, but before he could reaffirm, she smiled. "That's a terrible incentive to return home for. You hate apologizing."
He gave a rough, lop-sided grin at her, the first in a long time, but it faded quickly. "Shera, why the hell did yer put up with my shit all these years?"
She tilted her head at him, a warm smile reassuring him. "Because you've always been a kind man, despite your temper. You hide behind your gruff exterior, but I always saw how much you cared…. I knew one day you would be called for something great again, and I wanted to make sure that kindness inside you didn't fade into bitterness. Bitterness I would have caused. I understood that I was an outlet for your anger, but it proved that you still cared." She placed a slender hand on his arm. "I didn't want you to become a lonely, miserable man without hope. So I stayed with you."
Cid couldn't have felt more undeserving. He shuffled on his feet. "Damnit, Shera. Why'd yer have to be so nice?"
She squeezed his arm. "Take care, Captain." She reached up and kissed his cheek. "Don't lose those friends of yours." Then she turned to wave at Avalanche above them as she walked away.
Cid watched her leave, wondering if he would actually survive this suicidal endeavor and make it back to Rocket Town. Just in case, he bid it a silent farewell, telling it to look after Shera.
Once back onboard the airship they resumed a flight path to the Forgotten City. Cid watched his little town disappear into the distance from the outer deck. Without the rocket it didn't look like his town any more. He hutched his duffle bag further onto his shoulder and followed Avalanche and Bugenhagen back inside, limping along behind.
Vincent had not been with the others to watch Shera leave, so Cid assumed he was in his quarters. However when Cid knocked on his door a minute later, taking out a book from his bag that he had picked up at home, he received no answer. He tried again, but no luck. Maybe he's grabbing a drink. Won't stop me, though, he thought, punching the release for the door. It beeped at him, denying him access. A smile grew on Cid's lips. He hadn't given or shown Vincent how to apply a code for this room, and yet the crafty bastard had somehow managed to assign one.
"Yer gonna do just fine in the future," Cid commented aloud, keying in his override code. The door opened and he peeked in carefully. He didn't want to be mistaken and Vincent was actually asleep inside.
The room was empty. Good. Cid set the large, heavy book in direct view on the bed, then quickly left and locked the door. It would be a nice surprise for when the gunman returned. And it would pass the time they had left to the Forgotten City.
Cid returned to his own room and dropped onto his bed, pulling out rolled up designs and his stationary tools to continue on them. If he was going to be traveling all over the planet he wanted something to keep him occupied. Maybe for his next plane project he would name it the Shera; that sounded like a good name. He spread his plans out across the sheets and lost himself in his work.
/
Many hours later Berto announced their arrival. Cid checked the time, surprised by how fast it had flown by. He had a crick in his neck for looking down too long, but it had been worth it. He rolled his papers back up, stepped into his boots, grabbed his weapon and left his room for the bridge. From there it was a short descent into the valley where the Forgotten City lay hidden.
"At least we don't have to go through the Sleeping Forest this time," Yuffie said.
As they filed out of the bridge, Cid leaned over Jo's workstation, looking at the Highwind's instruments. They had been picking up strange readings since they arrived; no doubt the Ancient City's doing. He told Holoski to keep an eye on it and followed his team out to the outer deck. From there they left the ship and found themselves beyond the border of the Sleeping Forest. They began walking, not too keen to revisit the place that had taken one of their own from them.
As they trekked across the valley that would lead them there, Cid felt the familiar presence of Vincent fall into step with him. He had deliberately strayed to the back of the pack for this reason.
"The book is very interesting," the gunman said, eyes forward. "I lost time reading it."
Cid swung a side-ways smile at him. "Amazin', huh? Now yer know more about space than most people."
Vincent met his eyes. "Indeed. I understand your passion for nebulae; they present beautiful imagery."
Cid merely smiled wider. What he wanted to say as a follow up to that was just too corny.
It took them all almost a half hour to reach the Forgotten City. It awaited their return in the bright sunlight of the afternoon, deceptively enchanting and intriguing. The shell-like structures shimmered in the rays of light, as though there were tiny jewels embedded in them.
When they came upon the junction in the path, Red's grandfather paused and gazed down the left one thoughtfully. After considering it he made his way along, evidently drawn there. Avalanche looked as one at the path straight ahead. The one that led to the ancient city. It was an unpleasant reminder, and they could not help but gaze sadly at the treetops.
They followed Bugenhagen along the windy left path. It took them further out than the others had, along a small rocky drop and up to a hidden building, concealed in the shadows of the cliff behind it. The design was different to the shell-like habitats; it more resembled modern architecture, but built from the very stone around it. Bugenhagen floated past with merely a curious look, continuing to the end of the path as it disappeared into the mouth of a cave.
Cid cast his eyes across the distance they had traveled to where the tops of the shell homes reached to the sky. In his foreground vision, Vincent was surveying the view, also, keen eyes studying the strange land. His simple mannerisms stole Cid's attentions, and he couldn't help but stare. The sun beamed down onto his hair, catching stray strands like threads of light. Cid wanted to run his hands through it again so badly. He had never really found hair spectacular. There had been one redhead in his life who'd had amazingly vivid locks, but unfortunately that had been the most remarkable thing about her. Vincent's hair seemed so much more fascinating. At times it was messy, as if Vincent couldn't give two shits about it – or, most likely, had forgotten long hair required grooming. And other times it seemed as though he had neatened it purposefully, and it was smooth and tangle-free. But it was the strange little spikes that drew most of Cid's curiosity. Did Vincent shape them that way every morning?
The thought made him chuckle aloud and he received a curious red-eyed frown for it.
"Nothin'," he answered, grinning to himself. But even as he looked away Vincent didn't. The pleasant weight of his eyes lingered on Cid's face, and once again it felt like a tangible touch, a physical caress. Yet when he was drawn back to Vincent's face he was looking elsewhere. Sneaky bastard.
Inside the cave the temperature dropped as they stepped from the sunshine and Cid's eyes took their sweet time adjusting to the darkness. Ahead, something glowed, beckoning them forward, and they stepped from the short passageway into a huge chamber. The Ancients had carved pillars and steps into the rock, and above the deep pit in the center was a small walkway, at the end of which was the source of the light.
"Wow," Yuffie awed, her voice echoing against the walls.
Cid's eyes scoured the chamber, absorbing the sight of old structures and the centuries of neglect. A small opening in the ceiling opened out to the sky, like an ancient skylight most likely for observing the stars. A spiral staircase descended into the pit before them, and as he stepped closer he cast a look down. Crumbled stone littered the floor below, yet no wildlife could be seen, no vines or green vegetation had crept in. The air was damp and cool, sitting on Cid's tongue like a heavy taste.
"Grandfather," Red's voice rebounding faintly.
Bugenhagen floated clear across the gap to the platform hovering above the pit, towards the object of light. The team made their way carefully on the path around the edge, single file, until they came to the walkway in the center. It was a narrow strip of stone connected to a circular platform. Cloud and Tifa trod carefully, and when no one else made to follow, Cid went after, more curious of the bright light than the long drop below. He stared at the strange glowing object, entranced by its radiance. It was a crystal, nestled on the center of a coral-like branch, almost alien in appearance.
"This is…" Bugenhagen murmured to himself, his gaze focused intently on the crystal. "The energy swirling around here… it's incredible. Knowledge of the Ancients…"
As he fell into silence again, seemingly listening to something they couldn't hear. Cid glanced across at the rest of the team, and as he expected, Vincent's attention was on the crystal, too. His senses could detect something other worldly, but Cid knew he couldn't interpret it. Aerith had been able to decipher whatever it was, but Vincent wasn't a Cetra. Still, his 'listening' face was endearing. His eyes flittered and stopped, switching from air to air as his head tilted slightly, sensing the mystical energy around him. He was just so utterly fascinating and painstakingly gorgeous. Sometimes his eyebrows would furrow slightly, and he would blink studiously. But as soon as someone near him shifted his eyes snapped from their imaginary target and he became alert, like the trained Turk he had once been. Cid could spend hours watching him, enjoying the little flurries of fondness that occurred each time he looked at the man. Fondness, because Cid wasn't ready to accept it as anything stronger just yet.
"It's telling me…" Bugenhagen began, studying the light as though he could see something within its core. Cid and Vincent's eyes met for a split second before looking to the old man. "The knowledge is telling me that the planet is in the midst of a devastating crisis. A crisis beyond human power… when the time comes, we must search."
Cid frowned, looking around at the other confused faces. "Search for what?"
Bugenhagen lifted his gaze. "Holy."
"And that is…?"
"The ultimate white magic," the old man explained. "Magic that might be our one chance to stand against Meteor. Perhaps our last hope…" He trailed off as he listened, a hard line creasing his forehead. "It will rid all threats against the planet; Meteor, Weapons… perhaps even us."
"What?" Barret demanded. "Whaddya mean, us?"
Bugenhagen looked across at him. "Holy will protect the planet from anything that causes her harm."
Barret stared hard until a dawning expression crossed his face. "Humans."
Bugenhagen nodded. "We, as a race, have damaged this planet greatly. But only the planet can decide our fate. She knows what is best for her. Depending on this, Holy will make it all disappear."
Cid still couldn't wrap his head around the planet as a self-aware entity. It was strange to talk about it thinking and deciding. It was also very worrying.
"So if the planet decides humans are bad, we're gonna get wiped out?" Barret questioned, disbelieving. "All this, trying to save the planet from Sephiroth, it'll be for nothing?"
"Will it?" The old man asked. "If the planet deems us worthy of life, you will have saved her and humankind. If she doesn't, then at least the planet will still be alive and clean of threats."
Barret seemed shell-shocked. He shook his head, evidently unable to form a response that would achieve anything; he glared at the ground, new thoughts and new worries plaguing him. Cid pretty much felt the same. All this work they were going through to save the planet and the human race, only to be told they might all be wiped out anyway by the very world they were trying to protect.
Cloud had pushed past this shocker. "You said we have to search for Holy. How do we do that?"
"If it's going to destroy us do we want to?" Yuffie called from stable ground.
"If it's the only chance we have, then yes," Tifa replied, though she looked unsure herself.
Bugenhagen looked to Cloud. "The White Materia. This magic allows communication with the planet herself, and only then can your message to save the planet be understood. When this happens the materia glows green."
"Where the hell do we find the White Materia?" Cid questioned.
"Aerith…" Cloud said slowly. He looked around at everyone. "Aerith told me she had the White Materia…"
Silence fell among them as realization hit.
"Can't we use those Huge Materias to help?" Yuffie broke the silence, a hopeful lilt to her voice.
Bugenhagen shook his head. "They cannot do what the White Materia can."
Cid threw up his hands. "Great, so what the hell do we do?"
There was a small, growing smile on Bugenhagen's face. He knew something. "You stay here for a moment, that is what you do," he said, and a second later floated across the pit to a flat area that seemed inaccessible by any other means. He disappeared behind a large, stone pillar.
"Grandfather, what are you doing?" Red called.
"I suspected this would be nearby," came the old man's voice.
What followed was the sound of a solid, stony mechanism interlocking, and the pillar of rock gave a tremble and began to sink into the ground, coughing up clouds of dust, accompanied by a deep rumble. Bugenhagen watched as the pillar settled into the floor and looked up at the ceiling.
"I think perhaps you should move away from the –"
His last words were literally drowned out as a torrent of water spilled from the hole in the ceiling, crashing down on the circular platform where Cloud, Tifa and Cid were still standing. They all gave a unanimous yelp and darted along the narrow walkway to the rest of the team.
"Couldn't yer have warned us before?" Cid yelled, wiping water from his face. He was soaked.
The old man chuckled as he floated back across, gaining amusement from their unfortunate shower. "My apologies. But look."
Cid watched, disgruntled, as the waterfall seemed to expand. Inside, the crystal glowed brightly, and from the center its power pushed away the water, creating a dry hollow around the platform.
"Since you three are already wet, step back inside to see," Bugenhagen told them, nodding in assurance. He floated along the walkway and into the circular waterfall.
Tifa, Cloud and Cid exchanged looks before glancing at the smirking faces of their teammates. Even Vincent's eyes appeared to be smirking, although only at Cid. The pilot shot him what he would deny was a pout before following the other two back along the walkway. Hunching their shoulders redundantly, they stepped through the wall of water and onto the dry platform.
"This is a screen to project an image upon," Bugenhagen informed them once they had entered. He was floating before the crystal patiently, gesturing to the wall of water behind it.
The crystal was shimmering with activity as a beam of light revealed a picture on the surface of the waterfall. Cid's eyebrows slowly rose as an image of Aerith appeared. It was the moment before she had died. Incredibly, this crystal was showing them a projection of the past, although how, Cid didn't know. It shocked and amazed him, and he had no doubt that Cloud and Tifa felt the same.
Aerith's face was lowered, her expression peaceful – just as Cid recalled. But the horrific event that happened only a second later faded from play, and the immediate moment after appeared. They watched, fixated, as Aerith slowly pitched forward, her life leaving her once again in a replay none of them watched to watch. She fell from the focus of the image as her hair unraveled from her tie, and there, where it had always been during her short time with them, was the White Materia. It tumbled free through her locks and to the floor, rolling off the platform's edge where it bounced upon two small pillars before finally dropping into the water below. It sunk solemnly to the water's bed, where it pulsated with magical energy, glowing brightly despite the tragedy it had left above. But there was one detail they immediately noticed.
"It's green…" Cloud murmured, staring hard at the projection.
"Indeed," Bugenhagen agreed.
Tifa's large eyes drifted to Cloud. "She had already summoned Holy…"
Cloud looked down, something troubling his fair features even more. "When we were in Gongaga, she came to me in a dream… she told me she was the only one who could stop Sephiroth. I guess now I know what she meant…"
"But if she summoned Holy, why hasn't it done anythin' yet?" Cid questioned, ignoring the bizarre dream-crashing mention; things were weird enough. "Shouldn't we have seen it?"
"Something is getting in its way," Bugenhagen said cryptically.
The three teammates looked at each other.
"Sephiroth."
It was a heavy realization. The very man they were trying to defeat was impeding their one good chance to stop Meteor. And Aerith had lost her life for them, they couldn't let her down. Which meant they had one course of action left to them, but… how do they stop a man who had the very power to block White Materia magic?
With nothing else to keep them there, the team made their way out of the cave and back to the Highwind. They discussed what they had seen, what Aerith had truly intended by running away from them, and reasons why she hadn't even confided in them. Why did she think she had to leave on her own? Why couldn't she have informed them all and journeyed to the Forgotten City together? Did she hope to save them the burden? Perhaps she thought it was her responsibility alone. Or maybe she knew her end was near, and had hoped they wouldn't witness it. They could only speculate.
The team had barely reached the airship when Cait Sith stopped abruptly on the ground below, drawing their attentions.
Yuffie bent down and poked him. Without his mog he seemed incomplete. "Hey, you okay?"
"I've just gained new information," Cait said with a sense of urgency. His little cat body was motionless, as though his controller was holding his breath. "You recall that the Junon canon disappeared?"
Assuming he was addressing them all, Cloud spoke for the team. "Yeah. What about it?" It seemed an odd time for the cat to bring this up.
"Rufus moved it," Cait replied. "He wants to destroy Sephiroth with it, but the canon was useless at Junon without the Huge Materia, the energy source. So he had it transported to the one place that could supply it with enormous amounts of power, of mako…"
Barret's breath hitched as he realized first. "Midgar."
The little cat nodded, paused, and tilted his head. He was focusing on something they couldn't hear. After a few seconds he spoke. "With the power of mako the shells will reach all the way to the northern crater…I've been assigned to adjust the power output to allow maximum energy flow…"
And of course, Cid assumed he was speaking as his controller; Cait would have a hell of a job trying to adjust anything half way across the world. "If they can get that bastard's barrier down we can get to him."
Cait stirred suddenly, a sharp movement of surprise. "Weapon!" He said. "One of the Weapons has been sighted in the northern Costa Del Sol Sea."
"What's it doing?" Cloud demanded, stepping closer.
The robot shook his head. "Unconfirmed, waiting for reports."
"Great," Cid drawled. "Well, its sudden appearance can't be good. Let's get onboard and go check it out."
The team climbed onto the Highwind, and with a quick order from the Captain they were airborne. It was possible by the time they reached the Weapon's last location it would be long gone, but there was also every possibility that it might still be in the vicinity. Although, what they planned to do was still unknown; they would cross that bridge when they got there.
The three soaking team members decided to shed their sopping clothes. Fortunately for Cid, he had his extra clothes to fall back on, but Cloud and Tifa were forced to borrow medical scrubs from the infirmary. Cid left them there and limped away quickly before Thomas could bitch about his lack of crutches.
Inside his cabin, Cid removed his wet clothes and peeled the soggy, cold bandages from his chest and leg. Was there any point re-dressing them? Well, he sure couldn't wear pants comfortably without the material snagging his wound, so he would have to wrap that one up, but he could probably live without the chest dressing. Besides, it was practically Vincent's duty to redress that by now.
He chuckled to himself, recalling the gunman's words. Last time to redress it my ass, I'm jinxed. Cid had half-hoped Vincent would appear at his door and offer to bandage him back up, with a look of humor in his red eyes and a smile hiding behind his cape mantle. But he didn't. Vincent wouldn't deliberately come to him and offer again, and Cid couldn't go to him just to patch up his boo-boo again; how juvenile. So he dried himself off completely and rummaged for the last gauze bandage in his med kit. He hung his wet clothes to dry and threw on a pair of worn jeans and a dark t-shirt. Luckily his boots had remained dry.
When he entered the bridge a few minutes later, most of the team were already there, hanging around the dome with drinks in hand. Cid couldn't blame them, watching the view fly by was an experience he still thoroughly enjoyed.
"You're still limping," Barret pointed out. "Where're ya crutches?"
Cid couldn't actually remember. "Dunno. Any word from the cat?"
Cloud, in his white infirmary garments, shook his head. "No, but if one of the Weapons has appeared trouble isn't far behind. I heard what happened at Mideel."
"Do you think that Weapon brought up the Lifestream to kill the human population there?" Tifa asked, cupping her glass. "It's scary to think they have the power to control it like that."
"Fuck, I hope not," Cid crossed his arms over his chest contemplatively. "But that makes sense." At least it's a better speculation than thinking it had come to Mideel to check out Vincent. Could it be that his Galian form was somehow connected to the Weapons? Or was it something else?
Cait Sith burst onto the bridge. "Weapon appears to be heading towards Midgar!" He announced, dashing towards them.
Barret stood up from his slouch on the railing. "It's gonna destroy the mako reactors," he gave an educated guess. "If those things're wiping out whatever hurts the planet, then Midgar'll be next on the list."
"Rufus can launch a few missiles at it, right?" Tifa asked. "The one at Juno was destroyed by the cannon."
Cait shook his head uncertainly. "I don't know, the cannon isn't properly installed, it's taking time to integrate the power systems with the reactors. And if these reports are accurate, Weapon will reach Midgar in about an hour if it doesn't dawdle. Lucky we got a good scout system, huh?"
Barret stiffened. "If it attacks Midgar, hundreds of people'll be killed." He paused. "And Marlene!"
Cait waved his arms in a calming gesture. "Don't worry, she's safe with Aerith's mother."
Cid's eyebrow cocked. Aerith's mother? Did the poor woman even know her daughter was gone?
Barret relaxed visibly, but he couldn't wipe all the worry from his face. "I hope she'll be alright…"
"Well, so long as she's safe, right, who cares?" Cait said, however there was a belligerent quality to his words that had everyone looking at him. Meow… "I've wanted to say this for a while, since I joined you guys. But what about the people who died in your attacks on the reactors? Did you care for them, too?"
Cid was surprised by Cait's verbal aggression. But he perked up, deciding some entertainment wouldn't go amiss right now.
Barret looked away guiltily and his demeanor shifted. "We did what we did for the good of the planet. Gotta expect a few casualties…" He didn't sound convinced of himself.
"A few?" Cait echoed. He was obviously calling Avalanche out on their less than commendable acts, but he was using a neutral tone, carefully screening his controller's emotions. He wasn't outright accusing. "What might be a few to you is everything to them."
"Yeah, you've made your point," Barret growled tersely. "I don't wanna hear that shit from someone in Shinra."
"Cait, Barret knows what he did," Tifa said gravely, a heavy weight in her words. "What we did in Midgar. We haven't forgotten…"
Cid was damn curious. They had evidently caused unintentional deaths somewhere along their journey, in the name of Avalanche, and it evidently weighed on them. Considering they had gone through countless Shinra troops without a second thought, he was surprised they were dwelling on this.
"Stop," Cloud ordered. "This isn't the time to be bringing that up. We will never forget what we did, but right now we have a Weapon to stop."
"If we can," Barret muttered, turning his haunted eyes to the view outside.
Cloud looked thoughtful. "Only one way to find out."
A smile wormed its way across Cid's face. That kid was something. He had changed since his revival from the Lifestream incident – if only a little. He seemed more there, more aware of the people around him and more observant, instead of just a pretty boy with a blank stare.
The Highwind adjusted course to head towards Midgar, which they would reach within two hours. They just hoped the Weapon was a slow mover.
/
"Ah, Cid!"
In the corridor minutes later, Cid turned to the sound of Bugenhagen calling him. He balanced on one foot and waited for the old man to float closer.
"Your ship is truly amazing, I didn't get chance to tell you before," Bugenhagen said, halting before the pilot. "The view from the outer deck is fantastic."
Cid lifted an eyebrow. "The outer deck is locked durin' flight."
Bugenhagen's eyes twinkled mischievously. "You forget I'm not entirely incompetent with technical systems."
"I remember," Cid said.
The old man gestured for them to walk (and float). "I wanted to talk to you about something," he began as they moved. "But I don't quite know how to begin tactfully, therefore I will come right out and say it." He paused a beat before reaching his topic. "Be careful of your red-eyed friend, Cid. I sense a great, strange power emanating from him that I do not understand. And that worries me greatly. There is something non-human about him."
Cid stopped walking. "I already know that," he said, earning a surprised eyebrow. "But I don't have to be careful of Vince, 'cause I trust him, and he's more than earned it." Cid hadn't meant to sound so aggressive in his defending, but somehow the tone spilled out.
The old man blinked inquisitively and studied Cid's face. "Is that so?" He asked, genuinely curious. "I suppose in your team's constant close proximity to one another it is to be expected. But you speak with such loyalty. Your bond is closer, perhaps?"
That pesky rush of warmth rose inside Cid as he feigned nonchalance and glanced away. "When yer've been through all the crap we have yer get to know yer team." He started walking again, and Bugenhagen followed. "Just know that yer don't have to worry about Vincent. He might be powerful, but he's a good man."
Bugenhagen continued to watch him. "I see, but Cid –" And at this, he adopted a stern, grave impression. "Don't assume a good man always has control over the darkness inside of him." With that he gave a slight, parting nod and glided off.
Cid stopped and watched him leave. "The darkness, huh…?" Vincent's deep trauma, his torture and ordeal, had very likely created a hole within him, a pit of agony. A darkness? "Well I'm his light" Cid told the empty air. I'll save him. He turned in the opposite direction and limped off. Concern was nagging at him now, fresh worries that had him thinking. If Bugenhagen could sense Vincent's turmoil, was he still hurting as intensely as before? Cid had assumed he was slowly, psychologically healing. He had heard no nightmares, had noticed no strong pinching expressions of pain, and witnessed no cold shoulders to any teammates lately. Had Cid just been ignorant in his own selfish contentment? Even after this new step in their closeness, had he missed signs? Maybe he had underestimated how low Vincent had been feeling a few hours ago in his cabin.
Before Cid had hobbled very far, the very man he wanted to see appeared in the corridor. Had he been standing there while Cid had spoken to Bugenhagen?
"Vince," Cid greeted, drawing closer. "What yer doin'?"
The gunman's eyes traveled the length of Cid's body, taking in his fresh clothes. Was that approval in his eyes, or was Cid seeing things? Either way, he was a couple of degrees warmer.
"I was wandering," Vincent replied vaguely, and then seemed compelled to elaborate. "The cabin is too small for pacing."
"Restless, huh?" Cid asked, ignoring his mind's suggestions to help Vincent alleviate his condition.
"Yes."
The tension in the air was not exactly welcome, but nor was it unexpected. Vincent still seemed unable to allow himself intimate familiarity when he came across Cid, as though he wasn't sure their relationship was still active, and that Cid hadn't decided he no longer wanted a monster. But that would change… eventually.
Cid hopped nearer, closing the distance between them. "You alright?"
Instead of answering, Vincent looked down at the pilot's leg. "You should be resting that."
"Yeah, but yer know me. Stubborn ass," Cid replied. "I don't like lettin' things get in my way."
"Your way of what?" Vincent asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow.
Cid paused. "Wandering with you."
Vincent's eyes softened. "I'm not averse to wandering with you back to your cabin."
"Yer tryin' to play medic now?" Cid gave him a look.
"I'd just… like to see you healed."
Cid blinked. Was Vincent concerned? Cid had never really thought about how his own injuries affected caring friends, too caught up in his pride to notice. But that's what they did, didn't they? They didn't like to see the people they cared about hurt, and Cid wasn't exactly helping his own recovery. And his leg really did ache like a bitch.
After a long, scrutinizing silence, Cid said, "Well, when yer put it like that I can't really disappoint yer." He pulled on Vincent's arm gently and started hobbling along. "Just, no piggy-back offers, okay?" He grinned.
The gunman looked at him, clearly amused. "You have my word," he said dryly.
When they made it to Cid's door, he opened it and entered. He was pleasantly surprised when Vincent stepped in after. "Yer gonna keep me company?" Cid asked, a hopeful lilt in his tone. "I thought yer were restless."
"I was," Vincent replied simply, making no indication he was going to say more.
The pilot grinned. Maybe he just wanted company. "Okay," Cid said. "But for sendin' me to my room – " he grabbed Vincent's arms and pulled him towards the bed. They tumbled on the bouncy mattress, half-sprawled over one another. " – Yer gotta sit with me."
Vincent looked down at him, hair falling across Cid's shoulder. "You're like a child, sometimes."
"Should I be insulted?"
Vincent didn't reply, but the smirk in his eyes was response enough.
Cid hutched up to the pillows, propping his injured leg out in front and patted the sheet beside him. Vincent hesitantly settled there, placing a close but noticeable space between them. At first he was stiff as Cid gathered his technical design papers, but as the pilot began explaining what he had been doing, showing Vincent various ideas and explaining what his chocobo-scratch handwriting said, the gunman relaxed comfortably. Cid made no attempt to push himself closer, no matter how much he wanted to, and instead let him watch as he added, amended, erased and scribbled on his latest designs.
Vincent's head leaned closer as he tried to decipher a line of scrawl. "It is said that creative people have the worst handwriting."
Cid cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah? I think I should say thanks to that, but I'm not sure." He handed Vincent the mechanical pencil. "Let's see your handwritin' Mr. Critique."
Vincent took the pencil and paused over the paper. Could he remember what his own hand looked like? He laid down the point and wrote his name on the edge of the paper, producing a neat, tight lettering with an eloquent, old-fashioned style. Cid found his handwriting beautiful, and the way in which he wrote it hypnotic.
"Write the date down for me, next to yer name."
Vincent frowned. "Why?"
"'Cause when we look back at this in years to come, it'll be nice to reminisce."
Vincent lapsed into silence, and Cid could almost hear his mind thinking. A tender impression flickered across his ruby eyes and the stretching silence prompted a soft, lop-sided smile from the pilot. Vincent reached across and inscribed the date below his name.
"Again with your optimism," Vincent's deep, quiet tone rolled through the air as he handed Cid back the pencil.
"Yer make it sound like a bad thing."
The gunman gave a little head tilt. "Far from it."
The urge to brush a hand through Vincent's hair, or reach up and kiss him was almost unbearable. The little voice in his head suggested he refrain from those things, even though he couldn't figure out why. But if Cid really thought about it, every time he initiated touch, a little line of hesitation would cross Vincent's face, and Cid knew he was still battling his acceptance of their relationship. Vincent was very complicated, to put it mildly; his mind was no doubt a complete chaotic mess of positive and negative points. But deep down, if Cid had to sacrifice a few kisses to establish a stronger bond, he would. Vincent's comfort was more important.
Cid slid down into his pillow, finding a comfortable position between seated and laying. He propped his good knee up and supported the design against his thigh, thankful he had brought his drawing board. "It's funny, you sayin' I'm optimistic. I was pretty much the opposite when I was stuck in Rocket Town."
"This journey has changed us all."
Cid couldn't argue that. Cloud was certainly evidence to it, and even Cait Sith's loyalties had changed. But of course, most noticeably was Vincent. How much more would it change them all? How much longer did they have?
"What's this?" Vincent asked, pointing at a circular object inside of the pilot's designs.
"That's a hologram generator," Cid answered. "I always told myself if I ever crafted another ship I'd install one. Somethin' to kill time on long flights."
"It's recreational?"
Cid remembered Vincent had never experienced a hologram generator before. "Yeah. Think of it as a piece of technology that can project an environment all around yer. Bugenhagen has one in his lab, set up to create an outer space settin'. Used to use it whenever I went to Cosmo Canyon." He rolled his head in the groove of his pillow, looking up at Vincent. "I'll show yer sometime."
Those red eyes blinked thoughtfully. "It can be set to different environments?"
"Yeah, not just space. Why? Got a request?"
For a long moment Vincent was quiet, and then he shook his head. "Merely curious."
Cid watched him affectionately, enjoying the calming atmosphere between them. "There's so much I wanna show yer."
Vincent's eyes found his. "Maybe you will get the chance to."
"I have a feelin' I will."
Head tip. "Optimistic."
Cid grinned, lowering his eyes back to his designs. "Confident more like. Cloud's pretty bad ass, and you…" He looked back up. "Sephiroth should be shittin' himself if he had any sense. But not just because of yer physical strength."
Vincent's expression didn't change, but something in his aura did. This close, Cid could feel it. At some point, the small gap between them had closed, bringing them together, touching. Vincent had somehow managed to recline himself into a position that left very little space between them, and judging by the way his crimson eyes flickered across blue ones, he had just realized their proximity. Slowly, he lowered his head, hair draping across Cid's collar bone, and brushed his lips against the pilot's in a ghosting touch. It seemed to encourage him further, and he pushed another kiss onto Cid's responding mouth, tilting his head to gain fuller contact. It was deep, meaningful and passionate. Vincent tasted of perfection, his lips soft and warm. Cid's followed them with every little motion, sending tiny quivers of pleasure through him. Vincent wasn't just exploring his mouth, he was familiarizing himself with Cid's touch, experiencing his caress. But it was much more. It was the break in his wall, the lowering of his guard. He was kissing Cid like a lover, and damn if that wasn't the reason Cid was lightheaded right then.
The kiss broke, but just briefly. They collected their breath and, in unison, rejoined. Cid was elated. No, he was fucking euphoric. He felt Vincent's gloved hand sliding through his hair, fingers curling as their kiss developed. Vincent's inhibitions were gone for good, and the echoes of longing and want that he had been holding at bay were finally receiving attention. He yearned for companionship and contact that could warm and comfort him. Cid cupped his smooth face and promised him everything.
When they finally parted, albeit barely, Cid pressed his forehead against Vincent's, their breaths hot and humid against each other's lips. His heart was thumping, his head was singing, and he felt happy like he never had before.
"I'm gonna remember that when I look back at my designs, too," he purred, feeling a giddy smile working its way out.
Vincent squeezed his hair gently and gave as close to a smile as he could.
Not bad for their first, proper make-out.
/
AN: Firstly, sorry, you probably noticed I cut out a chunk of the FF7 gameplay where you have to search for the Ancient Key. But, realistically, it would take Avalanche FOREVER to find it in the ocean, if they even could. Hell, it took Shield 70 years to find Captain America, and that was with a certainty that he was out there somewhere. So I changed it, forgive me. It was also tough because having Avalanche go down in the sub again would have given me the opportunity for them to discover Lucrecia's cave, but I went for what felt right. She'll have to wait, sorry Lucrecia. No hot Vinnie for you to see yet.
Secondly, I hope I made up for my lack of updates with the end of this one. I wanted a sufficient amount of time for Vincent to realize he could indeed accept this thing between him and Cid. It was fucking hard to write - I kept rewriting and deleting the same bits for 2 weeks, trying to get them back to Cid's cabin without it sounding boring. Because the airship scenes are starting to mount and I don't want things to sound monotonous.
And lastly, thank you all for your comments, I reply to those I can, but a shout out to Avi on Tumblr - whose message I think was a hint for me to get moving with this chapter ;) So I did do. And to VivValen *waves*