A/N: Something I've been dying to write for quite a long time. *directs Shera/Cid fans this way*
Part V: High Hopes
I've sat here at this table, I've walked around, I've fidgeted, I've yelled at Shera, and I still don't know what the hell I'm doing. I must've smoked a thousand cigarettes by now.
Jesus. Shera's right - if Sephiroth doesn't kill me, this sure will.
Back to Sephiroth. What the hell am I doing? I'm no hero. Just an old pilot with big dreams.
All my dreams were up there with the stars, circling around 'em and taunting me to come and get 'em. I did - I'm not the kind of guy who can resist a challenge, let alone a jibe on my pride. And now... now I've fulfilled all my dreams, sorta. I'm a pilot, I went up into space and flew around in the stars. Now I'm saving the world.
What a @#$%ing joke.
So why am I really here? Spike wants me to answer that, he's @#$%ing crazy. Well, obviously. Bad example. But the point is, I want to fight tomorrow, and I can't even figure out why.
I guess it's because Sephiroth's a challenge. He's made a challenge. Killin'... murdering Aeris like that... that was a challenge to all of AVALANCHE. No one takes away something Cid Highwind cares about and doesn't pay for it tenfold.
Shera just brought me a cup of tea. I didn't even have to ask her for it. Maybe she's finally learning.
What the hell am I saying? Shera's one of the smartest women I know. I'd be dead a hundred times over if it weren't for her. That goddamn number eight tank...
"Thanks."
She blinks at me, like I've never said thankyou before, then smiles shyly. "You're welcome, Captain."
Has she called me Captain every day of my life? How come it never felt so weird before? I pick up the cup - and the saucer. Don't ever say I ain't refined, 'cause I won't take a cup of tea without a goddamn saucer - and walk out to the little yard where my Tiny Bronco used to be. I say used to because we lost it somewhere along the line. Don't ask me how you lose a plane.
It's really dark outside at night without the spotlights at the rocket to light up the whole town. I guess it's nice to be able to see the stars properly for once. It's pretty damn cold, too. Glad I've got the tea.
Shera's ventured out to stand next to me. I guess she figures she's gonna take the cup when I'm done. You know what, she ain't gonna. I'll do the dishes myself tonight. I'd like something to take my mind off what's coming tomorrow.
"What're you doin', Shera? It's freezing out here. Get back inside."
She looks as though she's going to, for a second at least. Then she shakes her head. "Captain... I..."
There's that goddamn word again. "The name's Cid, Shera." Maybe I said that a little too harsh. She doesn't look too happy. I can't think why - if I die tomorrow, she never has to make me another cup of tea as long as she lives. Admittedly, that might not be too long, but... eh, I guess it's the thought that counts.
"All right... Cid..." She's even looking a little bit scared. I cock an eyebrow. I guess I'm a little confused. Sure, I'm a bastard most of the time, but she doesn't have to be scared of me. Not ever. It makes me angry to think of it like that.
She sighs and looks away. "Cid... good luck tomorrow."
I grin, even though thinking about it makes me feel sick. "Yeah. Well, what do I need luck for?"
She smiles sadly. "You're right. You'll be fine."
And just like that, I'm suddenly feeling a whole lot better. "Yeah, you're right."
"Does that make me right, or you right?" She wondered absently, in true Shera fashion. I turn around and grin at her properly.
"Well I guess that makes us both geniuses."
Shera laughs. It's a nice sound. I don't hear it too much. I live with this woman, and I don't think I hear her laugh more than once a month. That's really sad, and in more than the pathetic sense of the word.
"Well... I just thought I'd come out here and tell you... so you don't do something stupid tomorrow." She murmurs, so softly that I can barely hear her. Then to my surprise, she draws herself up to her full height and looks my straight in the eye for once, instead of simpering. "I just thought I'd tell you that I expect you to come back alive."
I open my mouth to give a smart ass reply, but she ducks forward and grabs me around the neck. I'm not used to this - I nearly drop my empty teacup. She's crying.
"So... so you'd better be careful, Cid, because even if you don't, I love you and I want you to come home tomorrow."
Screw the teacup. It's gone, shattered into a million pieces on the ground. My arms are around her, and damn me if it doesn't feel like I'm flying.
"Hey... hey, it's okay, Shera." She's so short that her head fits just perfectly under my chin. Slowly she stops crying, but she doesn't let go. It doesn't matter - I have no problems if she stays like this for the rest of the night. I'd say that this is a reason, Spike. Wouldn't you?
