// / "Fancy meeting you here, Cloud Strife."
I come here to get away from everyone, for some reason I'm the only cadet that gets overwhelmed by all the tests and work and obstacle courses, sexual harassment and drugs and alcohol. I guess I can't get away though, at least not in Midgar. Nothing was ever like this back home, with Mother and Tifa. Kids thought they were so badass just because they could pick a fight or throw rocks at the town truck. I'd like to see just one of those kids with a hypodermic needle full of mako enhanced drugs and see how long it takes them to either run home crying for their mothers or overdose. Just once, I'd like to have some gigantic SOLDIER pinch one of those damn kids on the ass and order them to kneel down on the floor.
Speaking of ass pinching, the voice that has addressed me sounds a little suggestive. Deep voice, slightly strained, heady. "What do you want?" I find that being passive aggressive and an asshole is a major turn off for those lusty SOLDIERs that only really want someone to be close to. I do not deign myself to turn around to see whose speaking to me.
"Hmm, I've seen you. Just around places, mostly with my lieutenant."
I freeze. His lieutenant? That means . . . "Oh fuck."
I hear Him laugh and I turn so red that I bury my face in my hands and struggle for air. "Problems Strife?"
"Oh . . . fuck."
Another slight chuckle and this time I tilt my head just slightly and see perfection eyeing me with no surreptitiousness at all and He is /very/ beautiful. I cannot tear my eyes from that beauty and I sit there with my mouth gaping open. The General of ShinRa incorporate is alone with me in a courtyard /speaking/ to me. Oh, fuck. "I've been watching you, Cloud Strife. And I think you're progressing well."
I don't even hear him.
"And while I have been watching you train and watching your technique improve and your skills enhance, I've also noticed a few other thing about you, things that I like." He moves then and His body is fluid and graceful. I am paralyzed with conflicting emotions (fear, lust, desire, love, terror, confusion). I can only squeak a little when he kneels at my side and looks into my eyes.
I've never met anyone with eyes like mine. I hate my eyes. If anyone looks in my eyes, they know exactly what's going on in my head. For people like /Him/, he already knows what I'm thinking as it is, my eyes only serve to confirm the fact. He reaches out and touches my cheek experimentally. My will power, my self-control is swept away completely like sand in the wind. I grip His hand closer to my cheek with my own and a tear slides down my face. He wipes it away with a feather light, gloved touch. "Are you in love with me Strife?"
The question catches me off guard. But why lie? He knows anyway, He just wants me to say it, He wants my walls to crumble, He wants me to be passive in His grip. He wants me. "Y-yes Sir, I love you."
His hand, still on my cheek moves in a caress and I shudder and inch closer to Him. "Good to know Cloud. I usually don't allow myself to fall in love with cadets, but you are different. You are beautiful and strong, a perfect SOLDIER candidate. I think it would please you to know that I have indeed allowed myself to fall in love with you."
My eyes snap open and gaze into His eyes and they are soft and earnest. He leans forward just a little and I part my lips in anticipation to the kiss . . ./
"Cloud! Wake up or you're gonna be late for breakfast!"
I open my eyes and there are tears there. I stare into the bleak, stifling darkness of our quarters, me and the other cadets. Just a dream, another delusional, insane, mind rending dream. Of course it was a dream! The General loving someone like me ridiculous. Just let it go, let it go. No matter how many times I tell myself this, no matter how many times I have this dream, I always try and make things okay by trying to pass everything as a crazy dream. But there is truth in dreams, I love Him. No one can deny that.
"You hear me Cloud? Zack will be pissed at you if you're late for training, I heard he was gonna use you as an example today. C'mon, get dressed. They're serving sausage for breakfast, I know you can't wait. I'll meet you there okay?"
I do not say anything; only try to wipe the tears from my eyes. So close, I could feel His breath on my lips. Always so close. I squeeze my eyes shut and I roll out of bed to wallow in my love-sick misery.//
Waking up on a chocobo is the most bizarre thing that anyone can ever experience. How anyone can even fall asleep on a chocobo is beyond me, but I did. I've been doing a lot of things lately that I thought no one could do. But waking up and being suddenly aware of just how jumbled your body and thoughts are and seeing the landscape fly by so quickly that you can't even be sure it is there at all is just /strange/. I'm glad my bird simply follows Vincent and I'm amazed that I haven't fallen off yet.
I, still clinging to the neck of my bird precariously, reach up cautiously to wipe my eyes and try to return a sense of reason to my mind. We're approaching North Corel steadily. For the first time I wonder if I'm famous, if anyone knows who I am or what I did. Would I be hailed as a hero? I hope not, I pray that what I've done hasn't reached the eyes and ears of others. They would adore me, but I wouldn't. I hate myself. I miss Sephiroth; I just want to be with him, in his arms. Just once, or possibly just one more time.
"Cloud?" Vincent calls to me from ahead on the chocobo, deep resounding voice in my head all around me.
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to stop in Corel to gather some provisions and such. Is there something in particular you need?"
I dare myself to say it. "A newspaper. And some alcohol, something good and strong." Corel has good liquor mainly because after the accident, almost everyone instantly became a raving alcoholic. Are things looking up for them, those lost souls? It doesn't matter though. They should have died, only if it would have kept my angel alive.
"Very well. I'd like it if you stayed outside of town, as you still look a little less than presentable. I wouldn't want to cause a disturbance."
"That's fine. I don't want to see anyone anyways." As an afterthought, I look at my hands and my shirt. I'm still grotesque. Worm guts rot in the sun. "Please hurry, as trivial as it is I'd really like to get clean."
I look up and realize that he has slowed enough so that he is only a few paces in front of me, his bird walking casually. He stares at me and it looks as if he might say something, but he turns away again and remains silent.
"What?"
He turns his eyes toward me again and I see resolve there. "To be honest with you, I was going to suggest that you venture off to the river by yourself, seeing as how it's not far from here. However, I do not trust you. Not after what happened earlier today. I wont let you die when I know that you still have a life ahead of you."
I scoff. A life ahead of me. A life of decaying in a slimy cave? I'm fine with that if he is. I guess I'll try not to die yet, indulge Vincent for a little while longer, he has been very good to me, it's only what he deserves. And I do feel guilty about it. I remember his voice, how desperate and terrified he sounded. I've never once seen Vincent shake off that indefatigable calm. Always composed, cool, cold. He was really that worried about me? That afraid that I would die? "Hey Vincent?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry, about earlier. I know that you've been trying hard to help me, but it hurts so much. I feel so cold and alone /all the time/. Sometimes I just want it to stop." I don't even try to stop crying anymore, if you try not to cry then you just end up looking uglier and stupider in the end. I look up at Vincent through the shimmering, tear-heat of my eyes. His head is bowed and I can almost /feel/ the grief radiating from him; a near tangible manifestation of whatever it is he feels for me.
"Don't apologize for your behavior Cloud. It is I who you should blame. I'm not accustomed to trying to help people, or understanding their emotions so I haven't been able to help you at all really." A pause. "I'm so very sorry, Cloud."
My mind spirals down into some emotion that I cannot describe. Horrible grief and betrayal coalesces with this terrible longing. I want to go to him, hold him, make him realize that he shouldn't be sorry, that it isn't his fault. I wonder if it would be so wrong of me to just touch him, just once for a little while. I wouldn't really be betraying Sephiroth if I just touched another human, would I? Sephiroth was never really angry with me before, for being with other people. And-what the fuck am I talking about, I wouldn't even /be/ with Vincent, I'd just . . . I dunno, touch him. I spur my chocobo forward . . . and stop just a few paces short of him . . . and I stand there motionless. Can't touch him, remember the time when I touched him before and he didn't want it, doesn't want it now either. I reach out anyways and my hands hovers in dead air just out of reach from his shoulder. He turns wary blood-red yes to me and frowns before dismounting his bird and walking briskly into town. My hand still outstretched closes into a slow fist. He knows. Knows as well as I do, that when I pretend to want to comfort him, all I really want is Sephiroth. Inside of me, a little bit more has died.
He returns shortly and tosses me a bottle of cognac with his claw before organizing what ever else he got in the pack attached to the bird. His hands move with determined deliberation. He unfastens buckles with one hand in swift, fluid movements. His clawed hand rests behind him, barely visible. I wonder why he is ashamed of it.
"Don't drink that yet, you're still dehydrated and it will only make it worse."
Indifferent tone, I wonder if he secretly wants to reach out to me, to hold me while I cry, rub my back and soothe my sobs. Hell, even Sephiroth had more compassion than this. Flash of white . . . then I remember, however brief, I remember.
"We were going on a mission, it wasn't Nibelheim, before then. I was sick . . . we were around, some kind of mountains, but not Nibelheim, couldn't have been. I always got sick and I knew I was weak. Zack and Sephiroth didn't care though, either way they didn't care. But, I think Sephiroth might have seen just how hard I was trying to keep standing, to deal with the bumps in the road and the tossing of the truck. And we went through a big dip in the road and everyone got tossed around and I fell. Sephiroth caught me. It wasn't Zack, because I remember seeing Zack smirking in the corner and he winked at me. Sephiroth caught me and asked me if I was all right. I wanted Him to hold me, His hands were pressed against my sides, I wanted to be with Him forever. He let go too soon and I almost fell again but I kept my balance and tried not to cry. But He touched me. He never did that for anyone else, no one, not even Zack. Zack fell often enough too, but I was the only one he helped. . . I wonder why?"
Vincent is staring at me with a look of seriousness.
I blush. "Maybe it doesn't even mean anything, sorry, I guess I was rambling."
"Everything means something, Cloud." I notice that he always says my name when he speaks to me, maybe to keep reminding me of who I am, what I'm not. "Every fragment of memory you have is a piece of a greater whole, and we need all the pieces to complete the puzzle. All I can gather from what you just told me is that perhaps Sephiroth was looking out for you, which means he had his eye on you. Possible attraction, could mean anything though really, mere impulse or, as you've brought up before, to make Zack jealous."
I nod. "Yeah, maybe both."
"Maybe both."
"Here's your paper. I don't know why you'd want it, you knew very well what you would see."
I take the paper from his him and stare at the front cover that has pictures of me and the others plastered all over the front page. Hail the conquering heroes. Reeve must have done this, made sure we received our due, and I am getting exactly what I deserve. I read the headline slowly. "REBEL GROUP DEFEATS METEOR!" I read the few first lines, unimportant really, and I notice that Sephiroth's name is conspicuously absent. I turn the page and scan the article, never once does it even mention the ex- General. I look up at Vincent.
"I think Reeve knew, about you two. Very few people knew that it was Sephiroth who caused everything. Reeve told the tabloids what you see there, that we released holy and conquered the Meteor. No one will ever know about Aeris or Sephiroth." I let the paper fall to the ground and the paper flutters. Vincent starts packing again. He's bought buttons, thread, and soap. Ammunition, a bottle of something, gun oil or whatever. More cognac. A bottle of water and a canteen. Little things that only he would think to buy. A brown, leather-bound journal and a pen.
"Here, you might find it in your best interests to write down all that you remember, just in case I'm not around to listen." His hand outstretched now, offering me something opposite to what I had offered him.
"What do you mean if you're not around? You . . . you said you'd stay with me."
"I will Cloud, for as long as you want me to. However, I do believe that I will be able to find some information in some of the towns. I assumed that you would want to stay in the forest where you won't be bothered."
"Yes but, I don't want to be entirely alone. I'm afraid of being alone. I'm afraid of waking up and not knowing where I am or who I am. I hate it."
"It's difficult, and solitude only manages to increase your guilt, your longing. But being with people is often more difficult. You know what I'm speaking of, I've seen the way you look at me."
I turn my eyes down. Gravel, grass, dirt, seeds. "Sorry. But you did it too." Cid would have been pissed if he ever found out that Vincent had a secret crush on Shera.
"I know."
He says nothing else only takes one of my hands in a sterile movement and places the journal and pen into my hands and waits for me to put them away. I slide them gently into the saddlebag and kick the sides of my bird harder than necessary. I walk in front of him now, only wishing to get to a river as soon as possible.
I think almost everyone has had a dream that they're drowning; I know I have. Never as if someone were drowning me, just in my dreams I somehow end up under water. I wake up gasping for air and sweating, but never afraid. I always wake up before I panic, before the water begins to fill the cavities of my lungs. I wish all nightmares were like that, where you wake up before you die. Too often I wake up just after I die, just after my world shatters, just after the angels fall. And I wake up in tears. Some nightmares you wake up sweating or crying and then you lie back down and breathe in and out, relax, only a dream. My nightmare, I only cry more. I can't believe I killed him . . . I can't believe it. What possessed me? Why me? Why anyone? Why Him? Being without Him is like living without oxygen, a constant state of panicked drowning. I drown now.
I pull my head out from under the water just before I need to breathe. I like water, enjoy the feeling of drowning. I like the feeling of being completely surrounded and helpless. Reminds me of Him. Of being completely held and safe from everything save for Him. Of being at His disposal and loving the gentle stream in Him but half wishing to be completely swept away by some typhoon, to be so lost within Him that there is no hope of ever being found. Maybe I already was drowned. Maybe I died in Him and can't ever come back. I think so. I will never be able to really be alive again. I'm surprised I'm not more insane than I already am.
The water is cold and rather than restore my senses, it freezes them. The trees around me, I see leaves moving but I cannot hear them. All I hear is water. I take my shirt off and put in the water, still holding it so it doesn't get washed away. It's the only shirt I have. Most of the filth on my shirt washes away. I wish my soul was like that, that I could wash it clean and start over the next day.
I look up at Vincent, wondering if he's watching me. His eyes are trained on the forest, peering into the trees as he stands sentry. My guardian. I remove my boots and socks. A desert of sand pours from them. I rinse out my socks and set my boots aside. I look back at Vincent again, he taps his gun with his claw and paces before the trees. I sigh and unbutton my pants. Of course we've done this hundreds of times before, stood watch for one another while we bathed in some lake or river, tried to get the blood from under our nails or the stench of death from our skin. I wonder if I'll be able to keep watch for Vincent, if I'll be able to protect him if something comes. I hate to rely on adrenaline. I slide out of my pants and wade into the water. My clothes are decidedly safe from being swept downstream as I have them stuck on some shallow rocks. Heedless of the cold I step into the water until it reaches my chest. It really is freezing, I wonder why, it used to be so warm down here, even in winter. Vincent is watching me from the corner of his eye, probably to make sure I don't try to drown myself. I still don't know why he wont just let me die. He wants to do what's best for me and maybe the best thing would be death. Is the Promised Land real? Is Sephiroth there? He deserves it, and so do I, just for all the things we've been forced to endure, we deserve it. I feel bitter towards Vincent for a long moment then realize that he must have his reasons for not letting me die. He's been through this before. He's still watching me. I dunk my head again and push my fingers through my hair and watch as bits of tissue come off on my hands. Will I ever be clean?
Tired of thinking . . . kinda want to sleep. I have slept but it's been a restless sleep full of dreams and memories. I just want to pass out for a few hours. I remember the cognac. It'll be a good way to spend the afternoon after traveling for so long. Until then I'll just pretend that the water rushing past me is fingers touching me and sliding against me, or strands of hair brushing against my naked skin. Surrounded completely, safe forever.
I take a long time to finish. I let the soap Vincent bought slide over my skin and through my hair. I sit in the water and set my clothes out to dry. When I do finish, Vincent averts his gaze. As if I really care. I get some kind of stupid pride about the fact that I'm not afraid to be seen naked and I stroll over to the trees and wait for my clothes to dry. Vincent eyes the water, wanting to get clean. Vincent was always the watch but I never saw him actually bathe. Whether he never did or did it in secret is anyone's guess, but I watch him now, just to see. I quickly lose interest though as it takes him about five minutes to remove his boots and belts. He is all buckles and buttons and metal, too complicated, don't even want to have to process his actions, looks like too much effort. Instead I focus on how cold it is. A breeze, however slight, can make you freezing if you happen to be wet. The sun does little for me. I walk over to my chocobo and remove the saddle and take the blanket out from beneath it. I never thought chocobos would sweat much, but they do. I don't really care though. I throw the blanket over my shoulders and sit down.
Vincent is painstakingly removing the wrap of red cloth from his head and face. He's very shy about his body. I probably would be too but then again I did have to undergo SOLDIER training. Up to five hundred naked guys in the completely exposed shower stalls back at HQ. After awhile you get used to the idea of people's eyes wandering over your naked flesh. There was a rule we had. No one could give anyone a hickey unless you were an officer. If you had a hickey that meant that you were taken by some higher authorities and were therefore untouchable. I got teased and harassed a lot at first, but then it stopped. Maybe Zack did it, maybe Sephiroth left his mark, I don't remember. Vincent faces away from me so I can't see his face, it appears as if he is unbuttoning his shirt. I remember I used to flounce around the shower rooms with bruises all over my body, knowing that no one could touch me or if they did then they would soon find themselves skewered at the end of a very large sword. Whether Buster sword or Masamune, who knows. Vincent lets his shirt slide off his shoulders. His skin is pale but flawless he glances back at me and hesitates visibly. I don't say anything. I loved being untouchable, I used to be able to watch people while they showered and make them blush but they couldn't say anything. If they did I'd sick Zack on them and then they would suffer. Zack could be supremely aggressive. Or maybe I'd run and cry to the mighty General, in which case whoever had bothered me would find themselves as the Queen of Latrine for five months straight and demoted five ranks. I look down now though, just because Vincent looks so vulnerable.
There are lots of things on the ground that maybe not a lot of people notice. Like there's always about a million ants running around and you can see them best if you blur your eyes and just see movement. There are lots of tiny pieces of dead grass, nearly white they are such a pale yellow. There are tiny black beetles. I used to . . . Zack used to catch them and put them in mazes he'd make out of sticks and things. They never used to make it out so he'd just let them go after they got boring. I loved Zack. He had so much mercy, even if they were just beetles he could have killed them. So kind and gentle. . . so terribly loyal. I look up now without really intending too and I see Vincent wading knee deep in the water. Vincent is beautiful, and I think this strictly in an observational sense, like looking at a butterfly or a . . . tree or something. He's not beautiful like Sephiroth, because Sephiroth was so beautiful that everyone lusted after Him and had secret shrines to Him in under their beds. Vincent is a little bit softer looking and though he is well-muscled, cannot really compare to my angel. I'm relieved by all this. By seeing how they are different rather than struggling for things that are the same. I don't even notice the claw, there are other parts of him that are more interesting.
He turns slightly and I don't try and hide the fact that I am staring at him. He stares back, looking reproachful. "Just wanted to make sure you don't drown yourself!" I call and he turns away without so much as a shake of the head. By just being around Zack, I learned to be a pain in the ass. I used to raise hell back in training, that is after Zack became my friend. My years of alienation and shyness back home were made up for by being a completely obnoxious and pugnacious brat. I used to fight a lot and . . . should I be writing this down? May as well. I reach for the saddle that I had previously discarded and rummage through the bag attached to it. I jot some notes, then draw a little, then watch Vincent, then switch back. My attention span is gone. I am reminded of some of the junkies that were expelled from the program. I write. They would disappear for days on drug binges. They came back and kinda hobbled around and fell asleep on their feet and picked at the skin on their faces and arms until it was raw. When asked a question it took a few moments before their eyes lost the glazed affect and they'd respond with something like "huh?" or "who the hell . . ." Sephiroth didn't believe in the destruction of one's own body, though he himself was rightly accused of being a little more than fond of the bottle. He did drink a lot, but I can understand why. He had an awful life, if I were him I'd do more than drink. I start to remember some of the stories He told me about what Hojo did to Him. He only told me because I made Him feel guilty for keeping things from me, as I remember. What He told me, if was horrible. I repress those memories before they swell in my mind. I've always had a horribly graphic imagination, which is why I managed to keep all of Zack's stories in my mind so vividly. I look back up at Vincent who is washing his hair modestly. I look back down at my paper the last thing I wrote was about drug addicts . . . what the fuck? The journal would work better if I knew what the hell I was talking about . . . maybe I really am crazy.
Looking at things makes it easier to live day by day. Focus on the now, only observations, never events, never the past. Like rights now Vincent is wading out of the water and he is facing me, looking at me to see if I'm looking at him. I don't look at his body though. I look at his face. His hair used to cover his face when he was a Turk, I think I know why he had it that way. So people wouldn't see how pretty he is. Full lips, high cheekbones, eyes that once must have been a soft brown, or a mahogany. I bet he has perfect teeth too, like Sephiroth.
"You really think I look that much like him?"
The voice startles me and I hadn't realized that Vincent had approached me enough to speak with me. He takes my idea and removes the saddle of his chocobo, trying not to act hurried. He turns away completely, not that it matters. I wonder if he can read my mind. "I don't know, let me see."
He freezes and the action is more visible as I can see every muscle in his body tense. He throws the saddle down in an irreverent movement and flaps the blanket out once. Dirt flies from it. He throws it over his shoulder and wraps himself in it. He relaxes then and turns his face to me. Same eyes, though a different color. Same shape to the face, same nose. Same height and build. If Vincent wielded a seven foot blade I'm sure he'd be as muscular as Sephiroth was. "Yeah, you do look like him, a lot."
"Oh." He sits beside me. Pretty close too. He's probably cold, or no, probably doesn't want me to get cold. He hesitates in his speech.
"Does it bother you that you look like Him?"
He shakes his head and his eyes are thoughtful, lips pursed into a disdainful line.
I know what he's thinking because I've speculated upon it myself. Vincent is His father, almost anyone could deduce as much. I don't say it though, wait for him too. I bet it adds to his guilt about Lucrecia and about me. I wonder how it feels to see your only son, so beautiful, die. Vincent opens his mouth a little to speak and I go very still, wonder what he has to say.
"Perhaps we should get the cognac out."
I shrug, may as well. "Think the others might still be following us?" I look up just in case the Highwind is hovering over us as we speak. Vincent reaches into his saddlebag and pulls out the bottle. I hadn't pegged Vincent as a drinker but then he /was/ a Turk after all. No such thing as a sober Turk.
"No, if they wanted to find us that badly then they would have done it. I'm sure they understand Cloud."
They don't understand, they don't even /know/. I wonder what they would have done if I'd told them. Cid's cigarette would have dropped from his mouth and Barret would have stuttered for a moment before screaming profanities. Tifa would have turned away so I wouldn't see her crying. I betrayed her, love the man who killed her father and destroyed her home. Cait Shih would have . . . well I think Reeve knew, probably did some enough snooping around HQ and understood enough about the lives of cadets to figure out what was going on. Yuffie probably wouldn't have cared, but then she may have hated me because Sephiroth did kind of cause the ruination of Wutai. Nanaki might have understood, just because he was wise enough and knew about the bonds between people. Vincent knows, always knew. Aeris . . . I wonder how things would have turned out differently if she had known, or maybe she did know. She would have understood, it wasn't in her nature to hate. I blink my eyes and realize that Vincent has been staring at me, strange to see him without his face covered. "Oh, I was just thinking, nothing important."
He nods and hands me the bottle. I usually don't drink cognac, but who cares right now. I take a few quick swallows. I learned how to take shots really well from Zack. And I got my ear pierced with Zack. It'd be nice if he was here, he'd talk to me and hold me, tell me comforting things, even if they were lies.
"Do you feel like talking?"
I don't, not really, but Vincent wants to help me and I should let him. I nod.
"Do you remember the first time you met Zack?"
Maybe he can read my mind. Or maybe it's just that he can read me that well or maybe it's coincidence. "Yeah. I was assigned to his squad. He was so cool, all the cadets adored him. Plus he was the nicest officer in the entire military. Everyone could go to Zack for advice or extra training, a night out on the town, anything. It probably exhausted him but he never showed it. He actually approached me first and told me to brighten up a little. That I'd never make into SOLDIER if I didn't have a positive attitude and a willingness to work with others. He was perfectly nice about it and I think I just nodded and stared at the floor . . ."
/"You're just shy aren't you?"
"Yes sir."
"Where are you from again?"
I flinch. "Nibelheim."
He laughs and I flinch more. "I'll tell you something if you promise to keep it a secret."
I look up at him and nod.
He leans close to my ear and whispers. "I'm from Gongaga."
I stare at him for a moment . . . wow, Gongaga.
"I know it's strange coming from some hick town to Midgar of all places, but the best thing to do is take it in stride and use the opportunity to meet new people and try new things."
I back away when he says 'new things'. The fact that nearly the entire military was either gay or bisexual had freaked me out at first just because I was taught that those kinda things were wrong and I was still trying to suppress an obvious physical attraction for The General. The 'new things' that the boys in the shower had done to me weren't all that great, but I don't say so, I just stare at my feet and realize that my shoe is untied and wonder if he'll mark me off points for it.
"You listenin' Cloud?"
"Yes sir."
"Hey I tell you what, why don't we go get some chow and I'll teach you a few pointers."
My head snaps up. "You mean like a date?"
He laughs, long and hard. "No no, not like a date. Like I'm your teacher and you're my student and you have a lot of potential but you're too shy for your own good. That is unless you want it to be a date."
I shake my head no.
"All right, you wanna go then?"
I nod tentatively.
He chuckles. "Don't be afraid to speak up, I'm not gonna demote you or anything like that."//
" . . . then we went to some diner and ate food and he talked to me a lot about Wutai. I got a little bolder and started asking about The General. He caught on pretty quick, that I was infatuated with Sephiroth, but I guess a lot of boys my age were. He started training me after that."
Vincent nods. "When did you two start to become involved."
I shake my head and smile. "As soon as I realized that it was okay, that he wouldn't hurt me." I conversation is heading in a direction that I don't want it to. Vincent will ask me something about Sephiroth or my child-hood or something else I don't like to talk about. "So enough about me, we always talk about me. What about you?"
He takes the cognac from my slack hand and drinks for a long moment. Probably stalling so he can gather an appropriate response. "What's to know?"
I shrug. "Where are you from anyways?"
He looks up at me and his eyes are cold, though not directed towards me. "Junon."
"Do you have family there?"
"I did once."
"Why'd you end up becoming a Turk?"
"It was the best way to leave home."
"Why'd you wanna leave?" I realize that I'm just trying to drill him with questions to piss him off. I wonder how far I can push him.
"No reason really. I was trying to be rebellious so I left for Midgar and got a job shooting pigeons in a parking lot on the upper plate."
He's lying, his past just could not really be that boring . . . could it? I seize the bottle and drink a few quick, sloppy gulps. Damn mako twenty times over for dulling the effects of alcohol. I drink some more and consider breaking out the other bottle. I wonder if we look funny sitting here naked wrapped in dirty blankets. Maybe some kids are hiding in a bush, pointing and laughing right now. Oh well, at least that was /someone/ would be having fun. "When's the last time you slept?"
He shrugs.
"Whatever. Let's just sleep for a few hours, we can make it to the Frog Forest by tomorrow right."
He nods and still has the pensive look on his face.
I turn on my side away from him and wrap the blanket tighter around me, it smells like greens. I use my arms as a pillow and drift slowly off to sleep, hoping that the alcohol will at least still my dreams.
"Good night, Cloud."
"G'night."
A/N to Lauren: Ahh! Lauren!! I've tried to e-mail you the lemon like 80 times but every time I do it the mailer demon or whatever keeps sending it back telling me that your e-mail doesn't exist. So I make sure it's all spelled right and it still doesn't work, then I try copy and paste from your review and it /still/ doesn't work!! So I dunno if I'm just a colossal dumbass or what. If there's another way I can give it to you let me know or maybe you can see if someone else will e-mail it to you. . . sorry, please don't think I'm an ass!!
I come here to get away from everyone, for some reason I'm the only cadet that gets overwhelmed by all the tests and work and obstacle courses, sexual harassment and drugs and alcohol. I guess I can't get away though, at least not in Midgar. Nothing was ever like this back home, with Mother and Tifa. Kids thought they were so badass just because they could pick a fight or throw rocks at the town truck. I'd like to see just one of those kids with a hypodermic needle full of mako enhanced drugs and see how long it takes them to either run home crying for their mothers or overdose. Just once, I'd like to have some gigantic SOLDIER pinch one of those damn kids on the ass and order them to kneel down on the floor.
Speaking of ass pinching, the voice that has addressed me sounds a little suggestive. Deep voice, slightly strained, heady. "What do you want?" I find that being passive aggressive and an asshole is a major turn off for those lusty SOLDIERs that only really want someone to be close to. I do not deign myself to turn around to see whose speaking to me.
"Hmm, I've seen you. Just around places, mostly with my lieutenant."
I freeze. His lieutenant? That means . . . "Oh fuck."
I hear Him laugh and I turn so red that I bury my face in my hands and struggle for air. "Problems Strife?"
"Oh . . . fuck."
Another slight chuckle and this time I tilt my head just slightly and see perfection eyeing me with no surreptitiousness at all and He is /very/ beautiful. I cannot tear my eyes from that beauty and I sit there with my mouth gaping open. The General of ShinRa incorporate is alone with me in a courtyard /speaking/ to me. Oh, fuck. "I've been watching you, Cloud Strife. And I think you're progressing well."
I don't even hear him.
"And while I have been watching you train and watching your technique improve and your skills enhance, I've also noticed a few other thing about you, things that I like." He moves then and His body is fluid and graceful. I am paralyzed with conflicting emotions (fear, lust, desire, love, terror, confusion). I can only squeak a little when he kneels at my side and looks into my eyes.
I've never met anyone with eyes like mine. I hate my eyes. If anyone looks in my eyes, they know exactly what's going on in my head. For people like /Him/, he already knows what I'm thinking as it is, my eyes only serve to confirm the fact. He reaches out and touches my cheek experimentally. My will power, my self-control is swept away completely like sand in the wind. I grip His hand closer to my cheek with my own and a tear slides down my face. He wipes it away with a feather light, gloved touch. "Are you in love with me Strife?"
The question catches me off guard. But why lie? He knows anyway, He just wants me to say it, He wants my walls to crumble, He wants me to be passive in His grip. He wants me. "Y-yes Sir, I love you."
His hand, still on my cheek moves in a caress and I shudder and inch closer to Him. "Good to know Cloud. I usually don't allow myself to fall in love with cadets, but you are different. You are beautiful and strong, a perfect SOLDIER candidate. I think it would please you to know that I have indeed allowed myself to fall in love with you."
My eyes snap open and gaze into His eyes and they are soft and earnest. He leans forward just a little and I part my lips in anticipation to the kiss . . ./
"Cloud! Wake up or you're gonna be late for breakfast!"
I open my eyes and there are tears there. I stare into the bleak, stifling darkness of our quarters, me and the other cadets. Just a dream, another delusional, insane, mind rending dream. Of course it was a dream! The General loving someone like me ridiculous. Just let it go, let it go. No matter how many times I tell myself this, no matter how many times I have this dream, I always try and make things okay by trying to pass everything as a crazy dream. But there is truth in dreams, I love Him. No one can deny that.
"You hear me Cloud? Zack will be pissed at you if you're late for training, I heard he was gonna use you as an example today. C'mon, get dressed. They're serving sausage for breakfast, I know you can't wait. I'll meet you there okay?"
I do not say anything; only try to wipe the tears from my eyes. So close, I could feel His breath on my lips. Always so close. I squeeze my eyes shut and I roll out of bed to wallow in my love-sick misery.//
Waking up on a chocobo is the most bizarre thing that anyone can ever experience. How anyone can even fall asleep on a chocobo is beyond me, but I did. I've been doing a lot of things lately that I thought no one could do. But waking up and being suddenly aware of just how jumbled your body and thoughts are and seeing the landscape fly by so quickly that you can't even be sure it is there at all is just /strange/. I'm glad my bird simply follows Vincent and I'm amazed that I haven't fallen off yet.
I, still clinging to the neck of my bird precariously, reach up cautiously to wipe my eyes and try to return a sense of reason to my mind. We're approaching North Corel steadily. For the first time I wonder if I'm famous, if anyone knows who I am or what I did. Would I be hailed as a hero? I hope not, I pray that what I've done hasn't reached the eyes and ears of others. They would adore me, but I wouldn't. I hate myself. I miss Sephiroth; I just want to be with him, in his arms. Just once, or possibly just one more time.
"Cloud?" Vincent calls to me from ahead on the chocobo, deep resounding voice in my head all around me.
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to stop in Corel to gather some provisions and such. Is there something in particular you need?"
I dare myself to say it. "A newspaper. And some alcohol, something good and strong." Corel has good liquor mainly because after the accident, almost everyone instantly became a raving alcoholic. Are things looking up for them, those lost souls? It doesn't matter though. They should have died, only if it would have kept my angel alive.
"Very well. I'd like it if you stayed outside of town, as you still look a little less than presentable. I wouldn't want to cause a disturbance."
"That's fine. I don't want to see anyone anyways." As an afterthought, I look at my hands and my shirt. I'm still grotesque. Worm guts rot in the sun. "Please hurry, as trivial as it is I'd really like to get clean."
I look up and realize that he has slowed enough so that he is only a few paces in front of me, his bird walking casually. He stares at me and it looks as if he might say something, but he turns away again and remains silent.
"What?"
He turns his eyes toward me again and I see resolve there. "To be honest with you, I was going to suggest that you venture off to the river by yourself, seeing as how it's not far from here. However, I do not trust you. Not after what happened earlier today. I wont let you die when I know that you still have a life ahead of you."
I scoff. A life ahead of me. A life of decaying in a slimy cave? I'm fine with that if he is. I guess I'll try not to die yet, indulge Vincent for a little while longer, he has been very good to me, it's only what he deserves. And I do feel guilty about it. I remember his voice, how desperate and terrified he sounded. I've never once seen Vincent shake off that indefatigable calm. Always composed, cool, cold. He was really that worried about me? That afraid that I would die? "Hey Vincent?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry, about earlier. I know that you've been trying hard to help me, but it hurts so much. I feel so cold and alone /all the time/. Sometimes I just want it to stop." I don't even try to stop crying anymore, if you try not to cry then you just end up looking uglier and stupider in the end. I look up at Vincent through the shimmering, tear-heat of my eyes. His head is bowed and I can almost /feel/ the grief radiating from him; a near tangible manifestation of whatever it is he feels for me.
"Don't apologize for your behavior Cloud. It is I who you should blame. I'm not accustomed to trying to help people, or understanding their emotions so I haven't been able to help you at all really." A pause. "I'm so very sorry, Cloud."
My mind spirals down into some emotion that I cannot describe. Horrible grief and betrayal coalesces with this terrible longing. I want to go to him, hold him, make him realize that he shouldn't be sorry, that it isn't his fault. I wonder if it would be so wrong of me to just touch him, just once for a little while. I wouldn't really be betraying Sephiroth if I just touched another human, would I? Sephiroth was never really angry with me before, for being with other people. And-what the fuck am I talking about, I wouldn't even /be/ with Vincent, I'd just . . . I dunno, touch him. I spur my chocobo forward . . . and stop just a few paces short of him . . . and I stand there motionless. Can't touch him, remember the time when I touched him before and he didn't want it, doesn't want it now either. I reach out anyways and my hands hovers in dead air just out of reach from his shoulder. He turns wary blood-red yes to me and frowns before dismounting his bird and walking briskly into town. My hand still outstretched closes into a slow fist. He knows. Knows as well as I do, that when I pretend to want to comfort him, all I really want is Sephiroth. Inside of me, a little bit more has died.
He returns shortly and tosses me a bottle of cognac with his claw before organizing what ever else he got in the pack attached to the bird. His hands move with determined deliberation. He unfastens buckles with one hand in swift, fluid movements. His clawed hand rests behind him, barely visible. I wonder why he is ashamed of it.
"Don't drink that yet, you're still dehydrated and it will only make it worse."
Indifferent tone, I wonder if he secretly wants to reach out to me, to hold me while I cry, rub my back and soothe my sobs. Hell, even Sephiroth had more compassion than this. Flash of white . . . then I remember, however brief, I remember.
"We were going on a mission, it wasn't Nibelheim, before then. I was sick . . . we were around, some kind of mountains, but not Nibelheim, couldn't have been. I always got sick and I knew I was weak. Zack and Sephiroth didn't care though, either way they didn't care. But, I think Sephiroth might have seen just how hard I was trying to keep standing, to deal with the bumps in the road and the tossing of the truck. And we went through a big dip in the road and everyone got tossed around and I fell. Sephiroth caught me. It wasn't Zack, because I remember seeing Zack smirking in the corner and he winked at me. Sephiroth caught me and asked me if I was all right. I wanted Him to hold me, His hands were pressed against my sides, I wanted to be with Him forever. He let go too soon and I almost fell again but I kept my balance and tried not to cry. But He touched me. He never did that for anyone else, no one, not even Zack. Zack fell often enough too, but I was the only one he helped. . . I wonder why?"
Vincent is staring at me with a look of seriousness.
I blush. "Maybe it doesn't even mean anything, sorry, I guess I was rambling."
"Everything means something, Cloud." I notice that he always says my name when he speaks to me, maybe to keep reminding me of who I am, what I'm not. "Every fragment of memory you have is a piece of a greater whole, and we need all the pieces to complete the puzzle. All I can gather from what you just told me is that perhaps Sephiroth was looking out for you, which means he had his eye on you. Possible attraction, could mean anything though really, mere impulse or, as you've brought up before, to make Zack jealous."
I nod. "Yeah, maybe both."
"Maybe both."
"Here's your paper. I don't know why you'd want it, you knew very well what you would see."
I take the paper from his him and stare at the front cover that has pictures of me and the others plastered all over the front page. Hail the conquering heroes. Reeve must have done this, made sure we received our due, and I am getting exactly what I deserve. I read the headline slowly. "REBEL GROUP DEFEATS METEOR!" I read the few first lines, unimportant really, and I notice that Sephiroth's name is conspicuously absent. I turn the page and scan the article, never once does it even mention the ex- General. I look up at Vincent.
"I think Reeve knew, about you two. Very few people knew that it was Sephiroth who caused everything. Reeve told the tabloids what you see there, that we released holy and conquered the Meteor. No one will ever know about Aeris or Sephiroth." I let the paper fall to the ground and the paper flutters. Vincent starts packing again. He's bought buttons, thread, and soap. Ammunition, a bottle of something, gun oil or whatever. More cognac. A bottle of water and a canteen. Little things that only he would think to buy. A brown, leather-bound journal and a pen.
"Here, you might find it in your best interests to write down all that you remember, just in case I'm not around to listen." His hand outstretched now, offering me something opposite to what I had offered him.
"What do you mean if you're not around? You . . . you said you'd stay with me."
"I will Cloud, for as long as you want me to. However, I do believe that I will be able to find some information in some of the towns. I assumed that you would want to stay in the forest where you won't be bothered."
"Yes but, I don't want to be entirely alone. I'm afraid of being alone. I'm afraid of waking up and not knowing where I am or who I am. I hate it."
"It's difficult, and solitude only manages to increase your guilt, your longing. But being with people is often more difficult. You know what I'm speaking of, I've seen the way you look at me."
I turn my eyes down. Gravel, grass, dirt, seeds. "Sorry. But you did it too." Cid would have been pissed if he ever found out that Vincent had a secret crush on Shera.
"I know."
He says nothing else only takes one of my hands in a sterile movement and places the journal and pen into my hands and waits for me to put them away. I slide them gently into the saddlebag and kick the sides of my bird harder than necessary. I walk in front of him now, only wishing to get to a river as soon as possible.
I think almost everyone has had a dream that they're drowning; I know I have. Never as if someone were drowning me, just in my dreams I somehow end up under water. I wake up gasping for air and sweating, but never afraid. I always wake up before I panic, before the water begins to fill the cavities of my lungs. I wish all nightmares were like that, where you wake up before you die. Too often I wake up just after I die, just after my world shatters, just after the angels fall. And I wake up in tears. Some nightmares you wake up sweating or crying and then you lie back down and breathe in and out, relax, only a dream. My nightmare, I only cry more. I can't believe I killed him . . . I can't believe it. What possessed me? Why me? Why anyone? Why Him? Being without Him is like living without oxygen, a constant state of panicked drowning. I drown now.
I pull my head out from under the water just before I need to breathe. I like water, enjoy the feeling of drowning. I like the feeling of being completely surrounded and helpless. Reminds me of Him. Of being completely held and safe from everything save for Him. Of being at His disposal and loving the gentle stream in Him but half wishing to be completely swept away by some typhoon, to be so lost within Him that there is no hope of ever being found. Maybe I already was drowned. Maybe I died in Him and can't ever come back. I think so. I will never be able to really be alive again. I'm surprised I'm not more insane than I already am.
The water is cold and rather than restore my senses, it freezes them. The trees around me, I see leaves moving but I cannot hear them. All I hear is water. I take my shirt off and put in the water, still holding it so it doesn't get washed away. It's the only shirt I have. Most of the filth on my shirt washes away. I wish my soul was like that, that I could wash it clean and start over the next day.
I look up at Vincent, wondering if he's watching me. His eyes are trained on the forest, peering into the trees as he stands sentry. My guardian. I remove my boots and socks. A desert of sand pours from them. I rinse out my socks and set my boots aside. I look back at Vincent again, he taps his gun with his claw and paces before the trees. I sigh and unbutton my pants. Of course we've done this hundreds of times before, stood watch for one another while we bathed in some lake or river, tried to get the blood from under our nails or the stench of death from our skin. I wonder if I'll be able to keep watch for Vincent, if I'll be able to protect him if something comes. I hate to rely on adrenaline. I slide out of my pants and wade into the water. My clothes are decidedly safe from being swept downstream as I have them stuck on some shallow rocks. Heedless of the cold I step into the water until it reaches my chest. It really is freezing, I wonder why, it used to be so warm down here, even in winter. Vincent is watching me from the corner of his eye, probably to make sure I don't try to drown myself. I still don't know why he wont just let me die. He wants to do what's best for me and maybe the best thing would be death. Is the Promised Land real? Is Sephiroth there? He deserves it, and so do I, just for all the things we've been forced to endure, we deserve it. I feel bitter towards Vincent for a long moment then realize that he must have his reasons for not letting me die. He's been through this before. He's still watching me. I dunk my head again and push my fingers through my hair and watch as bits of tissue come off on my hands. Will I ever be clean?
Tired of thinking . . . kinda want to sleep. I have slept but it's been a restless sleep full of dreams and memories. I just want to pass out for a few hours. I remember the cognac. It'll be a good way to spend the afternoon after traveling for so long. Until then I'll just pretend that the water rushing past me is fingers touching me and sliding against me, or strands of hair brushing against my naked skin. Surrounded completely, safe forever.
I take a long time to finish. I let the soap Vincent bought slide over my skin and through my hair. I sit in the water and set my clothes out to dry. When I do finish, Vincent averts his gaze. As if I really care. I get some kind of stupid pride about the fact that I'm not afraid to be seen naked and I stroll over to the trees and wait for my clothes to dry. Vincent eyes the water, wanting to get clean. Vincent was always the watch but I never saw him actually bathe. Whether he never did or did it in secret is anyone's guess, but I watch him now, just to see. I quickly lose interest though as it takes him about five minutes to remove his boots and belts. He is all buckles and buttons and metal, too complicated, don't even want to have to process his actions, looks like too much effort. Instead I focus on how cold it is. A breeze, however slight, can make you freezing if you happen to be wet. The sun does little for me. I walk over to my chocobo and remove the saddle and take the blanket out from beneath it. I never thought chocobos would sweat much, but they do. I don't really care though. I throw the blanket over my shoulders and sit down.
Vincent is painstakingly removing the wrap of red cloth from his head and face. He's very shy about his body. I probably would be too but then again I did have to undergo SOLDIER training. Up to five hundred naked guys in the completely exposed shower stalls back at HQ. After awhile you get used to the idea of people's eyes wandering over your naked flesh. There was a rule we had. No one could give anyone a hickey unless you were an officer. If you had a hickey that meant that you were taken by some higher authorities and were therefore untouchable. I got teased and harassed a lot at first, but then it stopped. Maybe Zack did it, maybe Sephiroth left his mark, I don't remember. Vincent faces away from me so I can't see his face, it appears as if he is unbuttoning his shirt. I remember I used to flounce around the shower rooms with bruises all over my body, knowing that no one could touch me or if they did then they would soon find themselves skewered at the end of a very large sword. Whether Buster sword or Masamune, who knows. Vincent lets his shirt slide off his shoulders. His skin is pale but flawless he glances back at me and hesitates visibly. I don't say anything. I loved being untouchable, I used to be able to watch people while they showered and make them blush but they couldn't say anything. If they did I'd sick Zack on them and then they would suffer. Zack could be supremely aggressive. Or maybe I'd run and cry to the mighty General, in which case whoever had bothered me would find themselves as the Queen of Latrine for five months straight and demoted five ranks. I look down now though, just because Vincent looks so vulnerable.
There are lots of things on the ground that maybe not a lot of people notice. Like there's always about a million ants running around and you can see them best if you blur your eyes and just see movement. There are lots of tiny pieces of dead grass, nearly white they are such a pale yellow. There are tiny black beetles. I used to . . . Zack used to catch them and put them in mazes he'd make out of sticks and things. They never used to make it out so he'd just let them go after they got boring. I loved Zack. He had so much mercy, even if they were just beetles he could have killed them. So kind and gentle. . . so terribly loyal. I look up now without really intending too and I see Vincent wading knee deep in the water. Vincent is beautiful, and I think this strictly in an observational sense, like looking at a butterfly or a . . . tree or something. He's not beautiful like Sephiroth, because Sephiroth was so beautiful that everyone lusted after Him and had secret shrines to Him in under their beds. Vincent is a little bit softer looking and though he is well-muscled, cannot really compare to my angel. I'm relieved by all this. By seeing how they are different rather than struggling for things that are the same. I don't even notice the claw, there are other parts of him that are more interesting.
He turns slightly and I don't try and hide the fact that I am staring at him. He stares back, looking reproachful. "Just wanted to make sure you don't drown yourself!" I call and he turns away without so much as a shake of the head. By just being around Zack, I learned to be a pain in the ass. I used to raise hell back in training, that is after Zack became my friend. My years of alienation and shyness back home were made up for by being a completely obnoxious and pugnacious brat. I used to fight a lot and . . . should I be writing this down? May as well. I reach for the saddle that I had previously discarded and rummage through the bag attached to it. I jot some notes, then draw a little, then watch Vincent, then switch back. My attention span is gone. I am reminded of some of the junkies that were expelled from the program. I write. They would disappear for days on drug binges. They came back and kinda hobbled around and fell asleep on their feet and picked at the skin on their faces and arms until it was raw. When asked a question it took a few moments before their eyes lost the glazed affect and they'd respond with something like "huh?" or "who the hell . . ." Sephiroth didn't believe in the destruction of one's own body, though he himself was rightly accused of being a little more than fond of the bottle. He did drink a lot, but I can understand why. He had an awful life, if I were him I'd do more than drink. I start to remember some of the stories He told me about what Hojo did to Him. He only told me because I made Him feel guilty for keeping things from me, as I remember. What He told me, if was horrible. I repress those memories before they swell in my mind. I've always had a horribly graphic imagination, which is why I managed to keep all of Zack's stories in my mind so vividly. I look back up at Vincent who is washing his hair modestly. I look back down at my paper the last thing I wrote was about drug addicts . . . what the fuck? The journal would work better if I knew what the hell I was talking about . . . maybe I really am crazy.
Looking at things makes it easier to live day by day. Focus on the now, only observations, never events, never the past. Like rights now Vincent is wading out of the water and he is facing me, looking at me to see if I'm looking at him. I don't look at his body though. I look at his face. His hair used to cover his face when he was a Turk, I think I know why he had it that way. So people wouldn't see how pretty he is. Full lips, high cheekbones, eyes that once must have been a soft brown, or a mahogany. I bet he has perfect teeth too, like Sephiroth.
"You really think I look that much like him?"
The voice startles me and I hadn't realized that Vincent had approached me enough to speak with me. He takes my idea and removes the saddle of his chocobo, trying not to act hurried. He turns away completely, not that it matters. I wonder if he can read my mind. "I don't know, let me see."
He freezes and the action is more visible as I can see every muscle in his body tense. He throws the saddle down in an irreverent movement and flaps the blanket out once. Dirt flies from it. He throws it over his shoulder and wraps himself in it. He relaxes then and turns his face to me. Same eyes, though a different color. Same shape to the face, same nose. Same height and build. If Vincent wielded a seven foot blade I'm sure he'd be as muscular as Sephiroth was. "Yeah, you do look like him, a lot."
"Oh." He sits beside me. Pretty close too. He's probably cold, or no, probably doesn't want me to get cold. He hesitates in his speech.
"Does it bother you that you look like Him?"
He shakes his head and his eyes are thoughtful, lips pursed into a disdainful line.
I know what he's thinking because I've speculated upon it myself. Vincent is His father, almost anyone could deduce as much. I don't say it though, wait for him too. I bet it adds to his guilt about Lucrecia and about me. I wonder how it feels to see your only son, so beautiful, die. Vincent opens his mouth a little to speak and I go very still, wonder what he has to say.
"Perhaps we should get the cognac out."
I shrug, may as well. "Think the others might still be following us?" I look up just in case the Highwind is hovering over us as we speak. Vincent reaches into his saddlebag and pulls out the bottle. I hadn't pegged Vincent as a drinker but then he /was/ a Turk after all. No such thing as a sober Turk.
"No, if they wanted to find us that badly then they would have done it. I'm sure they understand Cloud."
They don't understand, they don't even /know/. I wonder what they would have done if I'd told them. Cid's cigarette would have dropped from his mouth and Barret would have stuttered for a moment before screaming profanities. Tifa would have turned away so I wouldn't see her crying. I betrayed her, love the man who killed her father and destroyed her home. Cait Shih would have . . . well I think Reeve knew, probably did some enough snooping around HQ and understood enough about the lives of cadets to figure out what was going on. Yuffie probably wouldn't have cared, but then she may have hated me because Sephiroth did kind of cause the ruination of Wutai. Nanaki might have understood, just because he was wise enough and knew about the bonds between people. Vincent knows, always knew. Aeris . . . I wonder how things would have turned out differently if she had known, or maybe she did know. She would have understood, it wasn't in her nature to hate. I blink my eyes and realize that Vincent has been staring at me, strange to see him without his face covered. "Oh, I was just thinking, nothing important."
He nods and hands me the bottle. I usually don't drink cognac, but who cares right now. I take a few quick swallows. I learned how to take shots really well from Zack. And I got my ear pierced with Zack. It'd be nice if he was here, he'd talk to me and hold me, tell me comforting things, even if they were lies.
"Do you feel like talking?"
I don't, not really, but Vincent wants to help me and I should let him. I nod.
"Do you remember the first time you met Zack?"
Maybe he can read my mind. Or maybe it's just that he can read me that well or maybe it's coincidence. "Yeah. I was assigned to his squad. He was so cool, all the cadets adored him. Plus he was the nicest officer in the entire military. Everyone could go to Zack for advice or extra training, a night out on the town, anything. It probably exhausted him but he never showed it. He actually approached me first and told me to brighten up a little. That I'd never make into SOLDIER if I didn't have a positive attitude and a willingness to work with others. He was perfectly nice about it and I think I just nodded and stared at the floor . . ."
/"You're just shy aren't you?"
"Yes sir."
"Where are you from again?"
I flinch. "Nibelheim."
He laughs and I flinch more. "I'll tell you something if you promise to keep it a secret."
I look up at him and nod.
He leans close to my ear and whispers. "I'm from Gongaga."
I stare at him for a moment . . . wow, Gongaga.
"I know it's strange coming from some hick town to Midgar of all places, but the best thing to do is take it in stride and use the opportunity to meet new people and try new things."
I back away when he says 'new things'. The fact that nearly the entire military was either gay or bisexual had freaked me out at first just because I was taught that those kinda things were wrong and I was still trying to suppress an obvious physical attraction for The General. The 'new things' that the boys in the shower had done to me weren't all that great, but I don't say so, I just stare at my feet and realize that my shoe is untied and wonder if he'll mark me off points for it.
"You listenin' Cloud?"
"Yes sir."
"Hey I tell you what, why don't we go get some chow and I'll teach you a few pointers."
My head snaps up. "You mean like a date?"
He laughs, long and hard. "No no, not like a date. Like I'm your teacher and you're my student and you have a lot of potential but you're too shy for your own good. That is unless you want it to be a date."
I shake my head no.
"All right, you wanna go then?"
I nod tentatively.
He chuckles. "Don't be afraid to speak up, I'm not gonna demote you or anything like that."//
" . . . then we went to some diner and ate food and he talked to me a lot about Wutai. I got a little bolder and started asking about The General. He caught on pretty quick, that I was infatuated with Sephiroth, but I guess a lot of boys my age were. He started training me after that."
Vincent nods. "When did you two start to become involved."
I shake my head and smile. "As soon as I realized that it was okay, that he wouldn't hurt me." I conversation is heading in a direction that I don't want it to. Vincent will ask me something about Sephiroth or my child-hood or something else I don't like to talk about. "So enough about me, we always talk about me. What about you?"
He takes the cognac from my slack hand and drinks for a long moment. Probably stalling so he can gather an appropriate response. "What's to know?"
I shrug. "Where are you from anyways?"
He looks up at me and his eyes are cold, though not directed towards me. "Junon."
"Do you have family there?"
"I did once."
"Why'd you end up becoming a Turk?"
"It was the best way to leave home."
"Why'd you wanna leave?" I realize that I'm just trying to drill him with questions to piss him off. I wonder how far I can push him.
"No reason really. I was trying to be rebellious so I left for Midgar and got a job shooting pigeons in a parking lot on the upper plate."
He's lying, his past just could not really be that boring . . . could it? I seize the bottle and drink a few quick, sloppy gulps. Damn mako twenty times over for dulling the effects of alcohol. I drink some more and consider breaking out the other bottle. I wonder if we look funny sitting here naked wrapped in dirty blankets. Maybe some kids are hiding in a bush, pointing and laughing right now. Oh well, at least that was /someone/ would be having fun. "When's the last time you slept?"
He shrugs.
"Whatever. Let's just sleep for a few hours, we can make it to the Frog Forest by tomorrow right."
He nods and still has the pensive look on his face.
I turn on my side away from him and wrap the blanket tighter around me, it smells like greens. I use my arms as a pillow and drift slowly off to sleep, hoping that the alcohol will at least still my dreams.
"Good night, Cloud."
"G'night."
A/N to Lauren: Ahh! Lauren!! I've tried to e-mail you the lemon like 80 times but every time I do it the mailer demon or whatever keeps sending it back telling me that your e-mail doesn't exist. So I make sure it's all spelled right and it still doesn't work, then I try copy and paste from your review and it /still/ doesn't work!! So I dunno if I'm just a colossal dumbass or what. If there's another way I can give it to you let me know or maybe you can see if someone else will e-mail it to you. . . sorry, please don't think I'm an ass!!