(Standard disclaimer: Final Fantasy Seven characters and settings belong to Squaresoft. I promise to put them away when I'm done playing with them.)
Midnight in the Garden of Chaos
He woke to the heavy sound of bare feet against the metal flooring outside his cabin. thump thump followed by the chime of mesh grating. Finding it bizarre that anyone would be up this late, Cid Highwind rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms and tossed aside the coverlets. This was his ship, dammit, and he wasn't about to let any hanky panky go on aboard it. Staggering out of bed, he fumbled around in the dark for a pair of cargo pants, slipping them on so at least he wouldn't be wandering around naked. The boots would take too long to get on, so he slipped out the door in his bare feet, following the corridor where the footfalls echoed into silence.
Midnight on the Highwind meant the crew had bunkered down. They landed in Neo Mideel the day prior and dropped off their cargo. It meant a couple days of rest and relaxation before taking on another load and moving on to another city. Cid loved the skies, but he liked his days off, too. It kept the crew happy, which was a bonus. Except for Vincent. But, he was never happy anyway, so Cid hardly paid it mind. After all, he'd asked the gunman to accompany him as a bodyguard of sorts, security to make sure the Highwind didn't get hijacked or robbed while docked. So far the former Turk had don't a bang up job, keeping the scoundrels at bay. He only wished he could see something other than years of regret eating away at the man whenever he looked into those luminescent crimson eyes.
But, Vincent was a mystery who refused to be unraveled. So, Cid did his thing, the crew did their thing, and Vincent did his thing. Everybody stayed happy that way. However, it was that entire train of thought that suddenly had him wondering about his security. Where was Vincent? Or maybe that's all this was, just the gunman making his rounds or something. At midnight? Well, why not, he was a bit of a nightowl. In his bare feet? Cid paused before turning the bend that lead up a short flight of stairs to the upper deck. A light breeze wound past his half dressed form, cool but not chilly. Mideel was usually of a warmer climate, even in the winter months. The only light came from the moon above, for the lone streetlamp along the air docks had either been shattered by some vandal's hand or had burnt out and not yet been replaced. He was silent in his approach, cautious. If there was a thief about, or someone with ill intentions, it would be too easy to ambush him here.
Instead of any would-be mischief maker, he spotted the lean form of Vincent toward the far end of the deck. On his knees, his hair fell over his face, shining with a blue-black sheen under the light of the gibbous moon. The lunar light shed a sickly wan glow over the man's skin. Cid frowned, stepped forward, and nearly called out to him.
But a whimper of pain from the gunman sent a shard of ice down Cid's spine and he suddenly froze, enthralled enough to stand there and watch. The muscles of Vincent's back writhed, as if something lived beneath his skin and now sought escape. And, finally did so, the ripping of flesh as audible as the man's cry of pain. Twin wings, graceful and leathery unfurl with a loud rush of air, spreading behind him to shadow the deck of the Highwind. Cid suddenly felt the need for a cigarette and realized he'd left them back in his cabin. No way in hell he was going to leave this sight to fetch them, however. He'd seen this before, but not for years, not since Sephiroth was defeated and Midgar overthrown for new republics and cleaner methods of energy. Chaos had consumed Vincent a number of times during those days, and the transformation was always painful to behold. But, it was never this long in the making. Always a few twisted moments and then the demon had fully manifested. Now it took its damned sweet time, but only, he suddenly realized, because Vincent was actually fighting it.
"My body..." he whispered hoarsely. Another spasm rocked his slender frame and he tensed, gritting his teeth. After a moment, it passed and the gunman gasped for air as if the effort had drained him. He couldn't keep it up forever like that.
"Vincent..." Cid called quietly, stepping up onto the deck. The dark head swung in his direction, red eyes a beacon in the night, glowing in sharp contrast to the inky shadows surrounding him.
"Cid... get out of here..." he rasped, convulsing again till the shakes brought him to his hands and knees, the weight of the wings too much to bear.
Cid did no such thing, disobeying the gunman by drifting closer. "Vincent, yer not along in this. And I ain't gonna have you tearing 'part my ship while in that demon form. So you gotta fight it. Like you said, it's your body."
For a moment, those emotionless eyes betrayed the man's thoughts, revealing an inner relief. He was not alone, he did not have to go through this alone. But, another tremor rocked his pale frame, joined by the abject snapping of bones. The lean body of the gunman Cid had come to know over the years transformed in that same hideous fashion, the demon chaos roaring into the silence, triumphant.
Cid suddenly had the urge to backpedal, at least into the doorway. Would the demon be able to smash down the metal door and get into the ship itself? Did he dare take the risk in letting Chaos run loose through Mideel? The demon turned slowly to face Cid, a soft growl emitting from its throat with a sound of purring curiosity. "This body is mine. He knew the bargain when he let me inside." The wings extended to their complete span, lifting off with an aviary ease, leaving only the rush of wind in its wake. Cid recognized its shadow in the light of the moon for only a moment, and then it was gone. Vincent was gone.
Cid leaned heavily against the doorframe, sliding down till he felt his knees strike the metal flooring. What kind of bargain had Vincent struck? What sort of deal did he make with that devil? Whatever it was, he knew why. Vincent always struck him as the self sacrificing sort, and he sold his soul to save the world. Now the demon came to collect.
So it was a shock to see Vincent stagger down the corridor that morning. Cid had resigned himself to never seeing the gunman again, though thoughts of finding Chaos and forcing him to relinquish the former Turk were being entertained. No need, however, as Cid emerged from his cabin, clean and dressed and ready to talk to the crew and figure out how to handle this, Vincent rounded the corner. Naked and covered in blood, he staggered along the hallway, leaving a smear of blood along the wall he clung to for support.
"Shit," Cid swore aloud and rushed forward, hardly caring how much blood got onto his shirt or his cargo pants as he grasped Vincent by the shoulders, "God dammit, where have you been. I was worried sick about you!"
Vincent slowly lifted his face, dazed and exhausted by his expression, and gave no answer as he slowly fell forward, unconscious. Cid caught him with another guttural curse escaping his lips. The slender frame was easily hefted up, but by this time a few of the crew had heard the commotion and come running. "Get on outta here, we got a ship to run, god dammit!" Cid exploded, "Wake up Shera and tell her to take over for a bit. I got business to attend to." And no one had to guess what that business was, scrambling out of the way. Cid Highwind was known for his savvy business deals, and known even better for his volatile temperament and abusive language.
He wouldn't apologize for it later, either. It's just how he was, and he was irritated to begin with. The gunman he took into his cabin, wiping down some of the blood before moving him into the shower and leaving him sitting on the tiles while the water ran over him, taking with it the crimson tide down the drain. It only took a moment before Vincent woke, startled and frightened and dazed. How many times had he woken from something like this? Cid had known him for two years now, and this was the first time he'd seen the demon forcibly take the gunman's body.
"Get cleaned up," he muttered before shutting the opaque doorway. "You and I are gonna talk when you get out."
By the time Vincent emerged from the shower, looking far cleaner and not so pale as before, Cid had found one of his cigars, lit it and now had finished off half of it while waiting. Cerulean eyes turned toward the gunman as he exhaled and they stared at one another in silence for a long moment.
"I'll leave the ship, if that is what you want," Vincent broke the silence first, his voice having returned to the dour monotone.
Cid smirked at him, "Fuck you. You ever gonna let anyone in? Trust someone? Jesus fuck, I've known you for two years now, we fuckin' saved the world together and you're still cold as ice. I ain't gonna let you go 'cause some demon's decided you gotta pay the piper. Now out with it, how long this been going on, eh?"
Dark brows furrowed in consternation, but Vincent complied easily enough, "Since you've known me. You saw me take the manual."
"Yeah, so the fuck what?" Cid countered, though he could still remember Vincent's words that day. I'm becoming less human. The thought nearly made him shudder, but he resisted. "So you let some demon in... don't tell me there ain't a way t'get rid of it?"
"There isn't."
"Oh please," Cid snorted. The cigar came back to his lips, a long draw inhaled before he turned his gaze back toward the gunman. His breathe exhaled the smoke as he spoke, "So, that mean you really can't get rid of it or you just don't know how?"
Silence again, and then Vincent sighed, "If there is a way, I don't know what it is."
Cid shook his head, pulling off the jacket to change into something not quite so bloody. "So what exactly is the bargain, anyway?"
"On the night the moon is nearly full and the night the moon is nearly new, he takes my body. I've never resisted him before..."
"So why did you do it tonight?"
The gunman shrugged and fell silent. Cid was afraid he was going to go all tight lipped on him again and have to have the truth drug out of him. Pulling teeth, that's what he equated getting answers out of Vincent Valentine to. "Vincent..."
"Because I'm tired of hiding it from you," came the quiet reply, finally.
Cid snorted, crushing out the remains of his cigar. The heady smoke filled the room already and he always knew Vincent detested it. "So, you been hiding this from me for two damned years... fuck... how I coulda been so blind is beyond me." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck idly. "Shit." Cerulean eyes drifted back toward Vincent for a moment, noting the other man was only dressed in a worn towel. "Fuck, get dressed, we'll talk about this later."
(To be continued...)