Chapter 3

Fairy Tales

"Yes, I know now, traps are only set by me
And I do not really need to be
Assured that love is just a four-letter word"

-Bob Dylan, Love is Just a Four Letter Word

Downtown Namedi, 7 days after Meteor

Cid Highwind rapped his knuckles on the battered wood of the bar in front of him. He sat perched uncomfortably on a barstool, tapping his foot endlessly against the bottom of the bar, ignoring the irritated looks he was getting from those around him. It wasn't as if any of them would actually speak to him angrily, the all knew who he was. After all, this city was where he had been born and raised.

Namedi was a faceless city like countless others scattered throughout the world. It lay in the shadows of the Nibelheim mountains, on the opposite side as the village of Nibelheim itself. About a two hour drive from Rocket Town, which he had called home for a decade in order to make himself forget about this city that was his true hometown.

He had been sitting on that same stool every night for six nights straight, ordering shot after shot of whiskey and doing his best not to notice the no smoking sign on the wall behind the bar directly in front of him. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it in a swift motion that had become such a habit it no longer required any thought. The bar itself was far from a high-end establishment, the tables and the bar were all covered in peeling brown paint, a large portion of which Cid had absent-mindedly picked off with his hand that wasn't used for perpetual smoking and drinking. The lights were all tinted blue, casting everything in a faint pallor that was just ugly enough to suit his foul mood.

The bartender, a lanky, unshaven man who seemed to be born and bred for his career of choice, came over upon hearing Cid's knuckles against the wood. At first, he had been amazed that Cid Highwind, who had quickly become a living legend in Namedi, would walk into his dive and order a drink. That feeling had worn off quite quickly when Cid kept coming back, drinking far more than he was talking. The bartender had made it his personal mission to get Cid to tell him what he was doing drowning himself alone in what he had referred to as a 'back-alley shithole'.

"Another one," Cid said gruffly, pushing his tumbler towards the bartender without looking at him.

"You do know that I'm going to have to cut you off eventually, right?" the bartender asked, grinning slightly. The second night Cid had come into the bar, he had tried to cut him off, and Cid had promptly offered to break him in such a way that he would be able to kiss his own ass. It wasn't a particularly pleasant mental image, but by this time the bartender had learned that Cid, legend though he might be, was too drunk to win a fight with a three-toed sloth at that point in the evening.

"Are you cutting me off now?" Cid asked, tearing his eyes away from the chuck of empty air he had been studying to look the bartender in the face.

The bartender laughed a little and shook his head. "Nah, I can still understand the things coming out of your mouth. You're good for a bit yet."

"Then fuck off and fill the goddamn glass," Cid snapped, turned back to his precious chuck of empty air.

The bartender took the abuse good-naturedly. After all, that was really a part of the job, especially when you worked in a complete hole like the one they were in. Also, he knew that if he bit back, Cid would never talk to him, and his curiosity would never be put to rest. He reached behind him and grabbed the bottle. A quick glance told him that there were five ounces left at best, so he just put the bottle down in front of Cid and slid his glass back towards him.

"You own the whole damn bottle now, my friend," he said, before turning his attention briefly to other patrons, none of whom he was as interested in.

Cid grumbled his thanks and poured another drink, downing it in one go and chasing it with a drag on his cigarette. He could hear some nameless shmuck beside him complaining about the selectiveness of the no smoking rule, the bartender responding by saying that the smoker was none other than Cid Highwind.

"Living legend, huh?" Cid said suddenly, causing the bartender to turn back towards him with an eyebrow raised.

Cid raised his glass and grinned weakly. "And look at me now!"

The bartender leaned on the bar, propping himself up with his elbows. "Are you ever going to tell us what you're doing in here? Where's the rest of your little tribe, anyway?"

Cid shrugged and blew smoke intentionally in the bartender's face, wishing he hadn't said anything. The thick haze settling over his brain was making it difficult to think. He heard a bit of scattered applause behind him and turned around, surprised that his offhand comment had warranted such a reception.

There was a three man band set up in the corner, guitar, drums and bass. All of those men looked like that hadn't showered in days, all matted hair and three-day stubble. Still, the patrons seemed somewhat appreciative.

"What the fuck's goin' on?" Cid demanded, turned back towards the bartender, who shrugged.

"We usually get a band in here on Fridays," he said.

"You could've warned me, you damn bastard," Cid growled. He was not in the mood to have the silence broken by some third rate musicians.

The drummer started in, and the other two followed suite, the notes resonating in Cid's drunken brain. As the guitarist started singing, he figured that maybe it would work as one more thing to take his mind off the events of the past week.

I woke up this morning to find myself here

No, I don't know where, but I know you're near

"Look Highwind, the suspense is killing me already," the bartender said, raising his voice to compete with the band.

Cid glared at him. "The hell are you talking about?"

"You just saved the world, man! You're a hero, why in god's name would you want to hang out in a dump like this?"

Strange, you're set in my deepest fears

As you're standing and staring at the mirror

"Why the fuck do you care? I'm a payin' customer. End of the damn story."

"Dammit, can't you just humour me? I've been doing this for a long time, I know the subtle signs when people just walked through a heap of shit, and trust me, your signs ain't too subtle."

I'd look out my window in the dead of the night

I'd see a streetlight, just one lonely streetlight

"I'm just not a subtle guy," Cid said honestly. "And it's none of your damn business!"

"You walk in here, and you're my business, man. I go home at night and tell my wife that Cid Highwind's rotting in my bar, and she's been bugging me for an explanation!"

It'll be my spotlight, where I'll sing to you

From there I'll walk on down the street, and never live here again

"The hell should I care about your wife naggin' at you?"

The bartender laughed. "Because I've been running a tab for you, because I'm letting you smoke, because I don't cut you off when I should, and because I'm damn curious!"

I smell change just around the corner

And I thought that I knew her

Lightning hits me as my hand touches the wall

And I thought that I could have it all...

Cid turned around and glared at the band. "Are you fuckers just playing that shit to piss me off!?" he shouted, though it was obvious the band couldn't hear him.

"Why?" the bartender wheedled. "Is it eating at you? It's a woman, isn't it?"

Cid turned back around, the metallic squeak of the stool motion drowned out by the music. "Fine!" he said, pouring himself another drink. "You want to know what I'm doin' in this shithole? I'll tell you the fuckin' story..."

Rocket Town, 12 hours after Meteor

Cid landed the Highwind just beyond the horizon of Rocket Town. He stepped back and shook his head sadly at the damage his baby had taken. The silver hull was riddled with scorch marks and cracks. Whole chunks were missing. It was a miracle that it was still able to fly at all. Cid's beloved Lady Luck had a hideous burn right across her face. He shrugged it off, figuring the face was hardly the most important part of his little design. In retrospect, he should have realized what a bad omen it was.

The reason he had landed so far from Rocket Town was because he didn't want her to see that he was home. He wanted to surprise her, to walk in the door of his house to a warm greeting and finally get the score settled. He couldn't figure out why he had never realized that he was in love with Shera Atkins, and had been for years. Perhaps it had taken staring death directly in face so many times over the past year, or perhaps it had been that he had finally made it into space, so his burden of unachieved dreams was lifted. Whatever the reason, he was in no mood to ponder it now. The question that was really gnawing at him was whether or not she loved him back.

Really, there was no reason for him to think that she didn't. After all, she had stayed with him, she had put up with him, and it would take an enormous amount of patience for anyone to be capable such a feat. There had to be some reason behind such inhuman patience.

With a silent nod towards Lady Luck, faceless though she was, he turned his back on his beloved ship and began the long walk towards the small town. He could just barely see the tips of those metallic fingers grasping at the sky, the towers that had once held his rocket. Cigarette clenched firmly between his teeth, he just moved one foot after another, wanting to be home immediately, but at the same time hoping he never got there. A thin line of smoke trailed away behind him, marking the path he was taking.

His walk into town seemed to be taken right out of normal time. He couldn't tell how long he had been moving, but suddenly he was staring at the familiar door to his little Rocket Town home. He raised his fist to knock on the door, but stopped himself. This was his home after all. He had never had to knock to go into his own home before. Why change now?

He pushed the door open and walked into his little kitchen, the smell of coffee striking him immediately. He had never liked the stuff, preferring tea and being none too subtle about it. Shera was sitting at the table, mug in hand, staring at him as if she had known he was coming.

"Come on, am I that predictable?" he said. It wasn't exactly the way he had meant to start the conversation.

"I knew you'd be coming back," Shera said. Cid was taken aback by the bitterness in her voice. Vague alarms began sounding in the back of his mind.

"I... I've got something I gotta say..." Cid stammered, as his heart began pounding even harder than it had as he had made the descent into the North Crater to face Sephiroth.

"So do I," Shera said, taking a sip of her coffee. Her hands were shaking slightly as she put the mug back down on the table. The words could have been interpreted as a good sign, but the atmosphere was far too heavy.

"It's just that... I..." Cid attempted, but the alarms were getting louder, and he was having trouble hearing his own thoughts.

Shera stood up and leaned over the table, looking him directly in the eyes as she spoke. "You're too late, Cid," she said.

It seemed that time had decided to freeze up again. Cid took a step back as if someone had kicked him. "Whaddya mean too late?"

"We've known each other for twelve years. We were practically kids when we met!"

"But... things change, ya know."

"That's the problem, Cid. They haven't. Nothing's changed!" She straightened up and turned towards the window, staring vacantly at the sky outside. "Did you know that last month marked the eleventh year that I've been living in this house with you?"

"I didn't know it was last month..."

"Eleven years..." Shera said, shaking her head sadly. "I gave eleven years to this place, and I got nothing but shit from you!"

"But I'm sorry... I said I was sorry when we were up in space..."

She turned towards him again, the anger written all over her face. "Well, that's the problem, isn't it!? Eleven years, and all I get is an apology! Don't interrupt me!" she said quickly, when Cid opened his mouth to get a word in. "What were you waiting for? When we were in space, when you finally achieved that damn dream you were always so obsessed with, when we were about to get blown to pieces! That should have been the time, Cid. That was as long as I was willing to wait, and I didn't know that until the moment passed. The world was about to end, we were about to be killed, and all you could say was that you were sorry!"

"I am sorry though..."

"That's not good enough!" she shouted, with such ferocity that Cid winced as if in physical pain.

"I... I do love you, ya know..."

Shera shook her head. "No you don't. You love a habit. That's all this life we've been living is. It's a habit. I used to love you, and I got so used to it, that I didn't realize that I don't anymore. If you had've spoken up ten years ago, then maybe..."

"...Maybe what?"

"...We could have been happy together. If I just smiled and told you I loved you right now, neither us of would ever really be happy. You can't force happiness. We're not living in a fairy tale, Cid. This life, well... it's not perfect. God, is it ever not perfect!"

Cid was at a complete loss for words. After all, he had just saved the world. Don't such people deserve the fairy tale ending? Was this really happening? Maybe he had fallen asleep at the helm of the Highwind. He'd better wake up before he crashed...

"I'm leaving this place," Shera said. "I have to live a real life. And so do you."

All passengers remain calm...

He had just crashed. All he could do was stand like a deer hypnotized by a pair of headlights as Shera picked up a suitcase that she had under the table and walked by him to leave. Having so many things that he should say left him with none that he actually could.

Time passed. Maybe an hour, maybe only five minutes. Still paralysed in disbelief, Cid sat down at the table, staring off at nothing. The house suddenly didn't feel like home anymore. It felt all backwards... unfriendly and alien...

In a sudden wave of rage, Cid grabbed the coffee mug and flung it against the wall, spraying ceramic shards and steaming liquid all over the room.

This wasn't home anymore... but there had to be a home for him somewhere... Well, there was only one other place in his life that he had called home. His hometown.

He had been pushed so hard that he would have to take a step backwards in life.

Downtown Namedi, 7 days after Meteor

"So I threw my shit together and I hitched I ride up to this fuckin' hole in the wall," Cid spat bitterly.

"Pretty rough, man," the bartender said sympathetically.

"Ya know, I spent my half my goddamn life tryin' to get away from this city." Cid's words were becoming increasingly slurred with each passing sentence. "I feel like I'm fuckin' fourteen years old again."

"Oh come on, Namedi's not so bad," the bartender said. "After all, we produced the legendary Cid Highwind..."

Cid snorted. "You ever been to the part of town that I came from? If you haven't then you're lucky, so shut the fuck up, 'cause I don't like lucky people. The old man's probably still sittin' and rottin' back home..."

Cid suddenly jumped to his feet, swaying slightly and grabbed the bar for support. The bartender started, and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"There's somethin' I gotta do..." Cid said, stumbling towards the door.

"Wait! You might want to sober up before you do anything too harsh..." the bartender called, but they were useless words, because Cid was already out the door. No one else even turned to watch him leave.

Fourteen years and fourteen shots hadn't managed to wipe his memory of Namedi's streets. He had spent most of his childhood prowling those streets, stalling for time and not wanting to return to his house. Of course, he had to learn to be tough, because too many of his fellow midnight drifters would have been eager to do awful things to a lone kid wandering in the dead of the night. Things had never really been easy...

Whatever gods there might be, with whatever karma they might be willing to bestow, Cid felt that they had owed him a happy ending. After all, it was easier to place the blame on mystical forces working against him then it was to blame himself. But beneath the drunken fog and the misplaced anger, he knew that it was no one's fault but his own. He had driven Shera away. He had long since come to the conclusion that if he ever let even the tiniest crack form in his arrogance, it would cause a catastrophic flood. He was living the results of such a flood at that very moment. Drifting in the streets, with an unwanted destination in mind, and rationality was too drunk to do its job.

He was walking past the run down inn that he had been staying in. A small voice told him that he should just go and sleep it off, but the voice was speaking with pure futility. No, he wasn't going to get a happy ending, because he didn't deserve one. But he knew someone else in Namedi who didn't deserve one either. Somehow, he doubted that the fourteen years that had passed since he had spoken to that person would have changed anything. If such a change were possible, than it should have happened when he was still a kid, based solely on the assumption that he deserved to have something go right in his life.

He paused for a moment, wondering what Shera had done after she left Rocket Town. After all, she had left with purpose. She hadn't been forced to find a new life. It had been her choice...

Berwick, 17 hours after Meteor

She wasn't sure what it was about the little village of Berwick that had finally persuaded her to stop and get some rest. She had been driving for five straight hours, on the terribly mountainous road that ran between Rocket Town and Costa del Sol. She had driven though dozens of little villages like Berwick, each more innocuous than the last.

It could have been the fact that her hands were shaking so hard she was having trouble gripping the wheel. Perhaps it was the tears that were continuously welling up in her eyes, blurring the dismal road before her. In any case, she had pulled over to the side of the road and gotten out, breathing in the fresh air, and studying her little truck with a certain dismay.

That truck had always been a source of stress-relief for her, something mechanical she could ticker with when Cid's attitude or life in general were getting her down. After the precarious drive through the mountains, it was looking a little worse for the wear. With a sigh, she sat down on the back bumper, not caring that mud from the bumper was staining her white jacket.

The hours Shera had spent waiting for Cid to return after Meteor was destroyed were the longest hours in her life, even longer then those she spent wondering whether or not Meteor was going to be stopped. She knew that he would be back that night. So she sat, drinking coffee in a vague act of rebellion, knowing that Cid hated the stuff so much, waiting and convincing herself that she was going to leave no matter what he said.

None of that had prepared her for the look on his face. She had gone over what she was going to say so many times in her head, but she had never factored in what Cid's reaction as going to be. Probably because giving that too much thought was going to make her feel to guilty to leave. No, she had to think thoughts that would make her strong, strong enough to do what she should have done years earlier. Cid wasn't the only one who waited too long for something.

Shera bit down hard on her lower lip to stop herself from crying, and looked down the road. The sun was high in the cloudless sky, and the sleepy little village was probably as close to bustling as it ever got. She could hear the sound of music and laughter in the distance, groups of people celebrating that fact that their planet had cheated death. The overall ambience didn't suit her mood at all. It made her want to get back into the truck and keep driving until she found a more depressing town to wallow in, but it was unlikely that she would ever find one. The world was ecstatic. The shadow of Shinra had been lifted, and Meteor had been destroyed. What more could people want?

She felt disconnected from life, being so unhappy while the world danced and sang. She had told Cid that life wasn't like a fairy tale. Those words had worked both ways. She wasn't getting the fairy tale ending either. She had never even stood a chance. After all, she hadn't been the one to go off and play hero when the world was in danger. She had just sat and waited, a face among the millions who did the same thing in letting others fight for them.

She was still harbouring a deep resentment towards what had happened in the Rocket. Cid had been lying there, injured, the Rocket flying him towards death, and she had been there to save his life and live his dream with him, and all he had managed to say was that he was sorry. If it takes a catalyst for a man like him to admit that he loved someone, then such an incident should have qualified.

The way it had worked out had been all backwards. The catalyst hadn't been an eye-opener for Cid, it had been an eye-opener for her. It had taken such a close brush with death for her to realize she didn't love him. It was a hard thing to admit, but she had come to realize that it was a memory she had loved. The memory of Cid Highwind as a twenty-two year old pilot, walking into the Space Program meetings for the first time, full of self-confidence and pride.

After seeing his dreams crushed and the world slowly forgetting about him, he had become bitter and angry, so Shera had devoted her life to seeing that he was comfortable in his, no matter how many bad turns it took.

It was time for her to be the selfish one. It wasn't fair for one person to live their entire lives devoted to another, practically enslaved to them. And yet, despite all her anger, she already found herself missing him, the smell of stale cigarettes, the harsh voice, all those vices that so many people find repulsive she had just accepted as those thing that made him who he was.

The question was, what was to become of her? She needed a job, she needed money. Neither one of those things should be too hard to find in a world seeing true daylight for the first time in decades. But she needed more than those material satisfactions. She needed to regain her pride, something she had lost years ago.

The destination she had in mind was Junon, though she feared going to such a big city would cause her to just become another lost face in the crowd. It was a role she was tired of. Looking at the small homes peeking out from the trees in front of her truck made her wonder if she should just settle for a small town like this, where she could become someone prominent...

Or would that be taking the easy way out? She worried that the pride taken from such small-town prominence would just be an illusion like her love for Cid had been. No, Junon was the answer. For better or for worse, that was where she had to go. That had been where she had met Cid, and that had been where she had left her self-worth. It made sense to go there to try and find it again.

She stood up, and made a vain attempt to brush the mud off her back, before getting into the back seat of the truck and lying down as comfortably as she could in the cramped space. She knew that she was out of the world's sights as long as she lay there. It was her time, her space.

Change was a frightening thing, and it was something that she had come dangerously close to forgetting completely. Still, thinking of the shattered look on Cid's face was bringing tears to her eyes. She finally just broke down and let herself cry openly, hidden away in the back of the vehicle, before finally drifting off and sleeping away the day.

North End Namedi, 7 days after Meteor

Just the sight of the door was bringing back a flood of memories, none of them clear, and none of them pleasant. 768 Agricola Street. The house was nothing more than a shack, held up by some rotten wood and a little luck. The grass on the front lawn was dying, the lone tree grey and leafless. The entire neighbourhood was too close to the Namedi Mako Reactor, but Cid remembered the time before that reactor was built, and things hadn't been any better.

The houses on the street were all in varying states of disrepair, the owners all having long since lost the will to keep up appearances. They knew the truth. People only lived in the North End of Namedi when the rest of the city had rejected them. No money, no dignity. He had spent his entire life trying to escape, and now heartbreak and whiskey had brought him back to where he had started.

Why had he gone there? The stupor was making it so hard to concentrate... All he could do was knock on the door and test his assumption that nothing ever changed. So he knocked, and he waited.

The door swung open wide, followed immediately by an angry voice shouting, "What the fuck are you doin' here this time o' night!?"

The anger of the man standing in the doorway gave way to complete shock when he saw who standing outside his home. He was a short, greasy looking man, with thin grey hair combed in a feeble attempt to hide his baldness. Wearing a beater-shirt covered with various stains and a pair of boxer shorts that didn't look any cleaner, all matching his gaunt face and empty eyes. The man looked to be the quintessential scum that would end up living out his miserable years in a place like the North End of Namedi.

"Cid?" he asked in astonishment.

"Dad," Cid said, with no emotion whatsoever. This was not the happy reunion of an estranged father and son. This was a bitter man confronting his deadbeat father for the first time in well over a decade.

After the shock faded away from the old man's face, the anger quickly returned.

"So, come back to rub it all in your old man's face, huh? Oh, you're some big fuckin' hero, and I'm some shitfaced bastard living in a cave!? Well, I don't wanna hear it boy, so get off my lawn and go fuck yourself."

The alcohol had shifted gears on Cid. He now felt vaguely nauseous, and he wasn't entirely certain how it was he had wound up on the front step of the house he had grown up in. Resting his hand against the doorframe for support, Cid looked his father right in the eye as he swayed on the spot.

"I want to hear you apologize, old man," he said. "Just once, I want to hear you admit what a prick you are."

An ugly vein suddenly popped out of Cid's father's forehead, his liquid blue eyes laced with flame. "Me! I'm not the asshole you walked around like he was better than this place! Lemme tell you somethin' boy, no fuckin' twelve year old kid in the world knows better then his old man. You don't know shit!"

Cid let go of the door and tried valiantly to stand at his full height. "Look around, Reg!" he shouted, gesturing wildly at the street behind him. "I am better than this place! You just never wanted me to think it, 'cause it meant that I was better than you!"

Reg Highwind's face darkened. "It's that kinda shit talk that drove your mother away, boy," he spat.

Cid suddenly reached out and grabbed his father's wrist, pulling him closer and looking at his arm. The tracks were visible on the inside of his elbow, nasty red scars traveling down the length of his arm from years of tearing at his skin out of desperation and sick habit.

"Still at it, huh? Well fuck you, Reg. You want to know why she left? Look at what I'm seein' right now."

"Don't touch me!" Reg shouted, pulling his arm back viciously, and raising the other on as if to hit Cid.

"What are ya gonna do, huh?"' Cid taunted. "You gonna hit me? Go ahead! I'm too drunk to feel it!"

Reg lowered his fist, and look slightly sheepish for a moment, but it passed quickly. "I wasn't a bad father, Cid," he said darkly. "I gave you food, I gave you a roof. It's all I ever had to give you, and I did. So what the fuck are you complainin' about?"

"That's bullshit! You wanted me to be stuck here like you were! So you'd always have someone to push around! But I never let you push me around, did I?"

"Get away from my house!" Reg shouted. "You never wanted to be here in the first place, so why the fuck're ya here now!?" He tried to slam the door in Cid's face, but Cid stuck his foot in the way out of pure instinct. He gave the door a violent shove, sending Reg stumbling backwards into the house. The anger was running strong than any drunkenness or nausea ever could. Everything in Cid's vision seemed to be tinted with red. He stepped inside the door, taking in the familiar surroundings, the peeling paint, the furniture covered in stains and burns, the threadbare carpeting, the cracked front window...

"Get outta my house, or I'll call the fuckin' cops!" Reg shouted, a note of panic suddenly entering his voice.

"Fine," Cid said. "Call 'em. You don't even have a fuckin' phone."

Reg backed up against one of the walls, as Cid advanced on him, looking around nervously for something to defend himself with. There was a little voice in Cid's head telling him that he should just leave now, before something terrible and irreversible happened, but the roar of fury was drowning it out.

He was standing only inches away from his father, the stench of booze coming from their breaths mingling together.

"You're a good father, huh? Number one Dad, right!?" Cid's voice was actually cracking in anger, an extreme rarity and a clear sign that danger was heavy in the room. He put one hand against the wall beside his father's head as the sudden urge to give up on consciousness hit him. Shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear it, he looked his father right in the eye, putting his face so close that their noses were almost touching.

"What kind of father sticks his kid with the fuckin' needle?" he spat. "The number one Dad? Answer me!"

Reg's breaths were a little ragged as he spoke. "I was tryin' to show you how to deal with life, boy! It's the only way..." His words were cut short as Cid reached out with his free hand and grabbed his father by the throat. Reg's eye widened in fear as his air was suddenly cut off, and the blood began pounding in his head.

"Just admit you're a fucking bastard, old man! Admit it!"

Reg shook his head, unable to get any words around Cid's iron grip. His face was beginning to turn a deep shade of red, more veins popping out of his head as he tried to push Cid away.

The room was spinning in Cid's eyes. This wasn't reality... this was just a nightmare... he had been having a lot of them while sleeping at that drab little inn...

He blinked and loosened his grip on Reg's throat, suddenly realizing where he was and the harsh reality of the situation. He let go, and his father slid down the wall until he was crouched on the floor, rubbing his neck and gasping for air.

"If... if that was switched around... you'd be dead..." he gasped. "You know that, right?"

Cid looked down at the old man wheezing on the floor with pure contempt on his face. "That's the difference between me and you, Reg," he said, before turning his back and walking out of the house, making a silent vow to never return there again.

After walking a few blocks, the whole incident became cloudy. Had that actually happened? The whiskey was really catching up with him. He stumbled and fell to the pavement.

"Goddammit!" he shouted into the dirt, raising his fist and bringing it down hard against the ground. He stood back up and stared at his bleeding knuckles. He didn't need this. He was better than this place. He had gotten away. Nothing would ever change that.

Author's Pointless Monologue: Oh the pain of it all! It's not always going to be like this... Reg Highwind was not in the first version of the story, though he was part of my mental background for Cid. He's a real bastard, isn't he? I hope people might notice the irony of some of Yuffie's comments about Cid in chapter 2 after reading this... I actually didn't do that on purpose, but I noticed it when I ineffectively combed through both chapters for typos. This isn't a bad chapter, certainly better than the first two... I thought Shera's little segment was actually pretty good, which is more credit than I usually give myself...

I was intentionally scant on the details in the first version, because most of the more popular fics seem to have short chapters, and are not overly elaborate when it comes to the thoughts of the characters. I was worried that writing it this way would make it boring. Personally, I think it's much better, but I'm pretty biased... I treating like a novel, and easing into things.

Coming up next, we'll have the Turks. (It takes me longer to write chapters that are 18 pages long, so don't be expecting me to update as frequently as I used to) No, I didn't forget about them, I love them as much as you... Well, probably not as much as all of you, there's some unnatural love floating around out there...