…Sorry…
By Sir Hawkeye
"Shera…. you were right… Shera… you were right…" the words repeatedly crashed through Cid's mind like a tortuous mantra. "You were right… You were right… YOU WERE RIGHT!!"
He sprang into a standing position. "GOD DAMMIT!!"
"Cid, SHUT UP!! Some of us are TRYING to SLEEP!!"
"…Sorry…" He didn't even turn around to look. He didn't care who it was. He was shamefully reveling in the use of his new favorite word. He couldn't seem to stop using it ever since they all had gotten out the escape pod… Cloud went first, then Tifa… then Shera. He was last. As they climbed out, he remembered using that word for a second time.
"Sorry…" it had been all he could say to Shera. How could he have been so blind?
In a quick spark of instinct, he flipped a cigarette from his goggles, and juggled the lighter out his pocket at the same time, with all the finesse of a professional smoker.
Then he paused, just as he was about to light the end. He caught sight of a small turtle, out for a late-night snack, shell glinting in the moonlight. Cid could also spy his goal, a small berry bush five feet from its current position.
"Dumbass turtles…" he thought, punching the wheel on the lighter with his thumb. Cupping his other hand around the cigarette, he set the end aflame, breathed in sharply, and exhaled, sitting back with all the hardy grace and space-pilot class he could muster. "How does Mother Nature even come up with stupid creatures like you?"
Cid looked on at the turtle with a haughty disgust as it crept towards the berry bush. "Come on!! Get a move on!! Go!!" he thought, mentally whipping the shelled creature. "Ah hell… Watch this, fatass turtle…" He leaned forward into a kneeling position, reaching his hand out towards the berry bush. "Watch the ultimate species on this planet take one of your goddamn berries…"
"SH--" He stopped himself just before yelling out the interjection. He fell back on his behind, examining the sharp pain that had just shocked his left knee. Looking at the ground in front of him, he saw a small thorn bushel, almost invisible in the dim moonlight. He sat back, plucking at the small thorns embedded in his knee…
"You left Shera to work on it!? That slowpoke'll take 100 years!!"
"What the hell are you doing!?"
"Hurry your ass up!!"
"Goddammit, Shera, haven't you made them tea yet!?"
"How do you expect us to ever get done when we have to drag your ass with us all the time??"
"Shera!! The oxygen tank is fine!! Get out of there!!"
"DUMBASS TURTLE!!"
He leapt up standing again, and drew his left leg backwards, his eyes focused angrily on the turtle, now just a foot away from the berry bush.
Then, he paused again, and sat back down. The turtle took a brief look at him, and Cid could see those dark, reflecting eyes, and the tough, disgusted look permanently imbedded on its face. It swung its head back forwards, and continued its journey towards the berry bush.
"…Sorry…" Cid felt himself sit down again, curling into a fetal position, not daring to speak or look around. His nose began to fill; his eyes to puff up. Then a small tear ran down his cheek. It curved around to his chin, and fell to ground. He could barely see the dark stain it left as it spread itself out on the ground. He stood up, slowly, looking at his dirty clothes and his musty old jacket, which had long become thickly laced with the smell of burnt tobacco.
"I'm full of smoke," he said solemnly, throwing the cigarette into the brush.
