Jaras' Reclamation

by KSipesh

COMPLETE The sequel to Guilt's Cost. Do not open this story unless you have finished Guilt's Cost and Guilt's Cost Continued. Six years after GC, Jaras is discovered, and happily ever after is over... I will not tolerate grief for this story.

4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Get up!" demanded an angry voice.

Jaras awoke when he was kicked in the side. His body was aching and bloodied from the sexual assault and ensuing beating that he'd endured the night before. Mercifully, he'd managed to pass off into sleep after the two men had finally had enough, but that brief reprieve had now ended. The memory of what he'd suffered the night before flooded back, and Jaras wanted to die.

One of the men in the room was at his side, hurriedly getting Jaras' clothes back onto his body properly. As he felt this happening, Jaras was relieved on some level, knowing that at least for the moment, he would probably be spared from getting raped again.

Shortly thereafter, he heard the door to the room open, and he was hauled up by some of the men and taken back to the van. Again, he was thrown onto the floor of the thing on his back, his hands still cuffed behind him.

Jaras remained quiet as he heard the men all get into the van around him and then begin driving down the road.

"Why is he so beat up?" someone asked, Jaras not recognizing the voice.

"He tried to escape last night," the man Jaras now knew as Hatley replied, almost laughing. "We had to get him to calm down."

"I see," the other man replied, seeming doubtful. "See to it that he's not harmed again between here and the facility, would you?"

"Yes, Sir," the leader shot back, not sounding amused.

"We should be there by tonight. The helicopter is waiting for us at the pick up point all ready," the mystery voice said quietly.

There was something unsettling in the tone the new man was using. He wasn't openly gruff or crude like the four SOLDIERs, instead, he seemed overly calm. His manner of speaking hinted that he might be someone of considerable status. Jaras wasn't comforted by this in the least.

-------------------

Cid woke up at six. Thanks to the emotional draining he'd undergone the day before, sleep had come readily by the time he'd turned in. After his confrontation with Vincent and then his revelation regarding his disease, the rest of the previous day had been spent in an awkward silence between he, Vincent, and Tifa.

Each of his movements was agonizing, as the rib of his that had been cracked in the fight pained him with each breath and movement. During the night, he'd coughed frequently, thanks to his condition. With each of these fits, he'd forced himself to remain quiet, as the misery of coughing with a broken rib was beyond terrible.

He got up and dressed, then making his way out into the kitchen. When he spotted Vincent sitting there at the table alone, he stopped in his tracks.

Vincent looked up with one of the most pathetic expressions the pilot had ever seen. The other man's eyes clearly stated that he'd been up all night, most likely crying off and on. In his hands was held a cup of coffee, which had been laced with a good amount of alcohol. He said nothing to Cid, and just sat staring.

Cid sighed to himself and got up the nerve to go and sit at the table, opposite to Vincent. "Up all night?"

He nodded, and took a drink from his cup. Vincent maintained silence for the moment.

"Like I said yesterday, I'm really sorry."

"She and I talked a lot last night." Vincent dropped his gaze down to the table.

Cid cocked his head to the side. "So, what's going to happen with the two of you?"

"We're going to try and work things out. There's some issues going on with me that need to be taken care of, and hopefully that will help us," Vincent said quietly.

"What?" Cid asked, wanting a reason why Vincent had been so needlessly miserable to Tifa.

He tapped on the side of the bottle of Irish Crème sitting on the table. "This. I can't do this. I use our fights as an excuse to drink."

Things made a little more sense now, and Cid looked thoughtful. "Got a problem with that, huh?"

Vincent shrugged slightly. "Yes."

"Addictions fucking suck, but I guess I don't have to tell you that." Cid decided that some coffee wasn't that bad an idea and went over to retrieve himself a cup.

Vincent fell silent again until the pilot sat back down. "She finally fell asleep at around four. I tried, but every time I closed my eyes…"

Cid waited for him to finish, but he didn't. "Every time you close your eyes, what?"

Vincent frowned and looked over at the chair to his left, where Tifa always sat. "I see her, here." He turned his gaze back to Cid. "With you."

Cid tensed his jaw, feeling his fear of Vincent set in again. He didn't know what he was supposed to say.

"It's bad enough that you did it, Cid, but you did it in my own house." Vincent took another sip of his coffee, keeping his stare fixed on the pilot. "I want to stay with her, I love her, and I owe it to Aaron, but it's going to be a long time before I quit thinking about her being with you. Maybe I'm wrong for being this pissed at a dying man, but I am."

"Well, you have to stay with her, Vincent." Cid looked down into the coffee cup in front of him. "I'm gonna be gone in a few months, and you're the one she loves the most. If I was going to be around, I'd be fighting like mad to get her to come be with me, that's the honest to God truth, but that's not how it is. You're gonna have to take care of her, and you're gonna have to do it right."

Vincent looked back over at Tifa's empty chair. "I damn near lost her, and I may yet from all of this if I can't get past the fact that it happened."

"You don't want to lose her, Vincent." Cid's voice softened a little. "You don't want to know what it's like to lose a good woman like that."

He looked up at his guest, seeing that Cid now looked profoundly sad. Vincent realized that Cid was, in his own way, expressing his pain over losing Shera to death and Jin to whatever had driven her away. He became curious. "Why did Jin leave?"

Cid scowled for a second, not sure if he wanted to get into this at the moment, but it was going to take the focus off of his indiscretion with Tifa. "I don't know. She didn't know about all of this shit. I took her out to dinner on the sixth anniversary of our first date and I asked her to marry me. She didn't say anything, but just got up from the table and ran out. She sent a friend over to get her stuff from my house a few days later. I've tried calling her to see if she would talk to me, but she won't answer. Hell, I've tried to tell myself that she's going to come back and agree to it at some point, but…it's just a pipe dream. It's probably just as well anyway. I wouldn't want her to sit around and watch me die. I'm guessing things aren't gonna be real pleasant toward the end, you know."

Vincent didn't want to see Cid deteriorate and pass on. Affair or not, he'd been one of the few friends that Vincent had kept over the years. The pilot's constant and overbearing confidence and unshakable nature would be completely destroyed in those last few weeks, as his dignity was stripped from him. This was probably the most inappropriate way for someone of his always independent and fierce nature to go. Cid should have been killed in a fight or a crash. Somehow, Vincent knew that this was what the pilot had always wanted, not to die in some sterile hospital bed. It just wasn't right. "Tifa and I will stay with you through it."

"I don't want anyone to see me like that, Vincent," Cid admitted, his expression one of misery.

"We won't let you die alone."

"Damn it, I don't want you two to see me like that!" Cid shook his head and knit his brow. "I'm going to be hooked up to all kinds of shit as they try to keep me going. I'm gonna get skinny as hell and weak, and there'll come a point where I won't be able to even speak to anyone that's around. I'll be coughing and choking constantly, until finally, I basically drown from all the crap inside me. I don't want Tifa to see that! I don't want L.C. to have that memory of me, either."

"You can't expect everyone that cares about you just to abandon you at the end." Vincent hoped that Cid's outburst hadn't woken Tifa or the boys.

"I don't suppose…"

"What, Cid?" Vincent narrowed his eyes, feeling something uncomfortable arise.

"That you could just, you know, kill me when it starts to get bad. I mean, what better revenge on me for doing what I did than to wipe me out, right?" Cid almost sounded serious.

He wasn't sure if the pilot was joking or not. If he was, it was a little more morbid than Vincent was ready to handle. "Kill you? And go to prison? No, thanks."

"No one would need to know, Vincent." Cid was serious. "Make it look like I killed myself. I would do it myself, but I'd be too chicken to actually pull the trigger. You've killed plenty of people in your day, though. It'd be nothing for you, right?"

"I killed many, yes, but they weren't my friends or people I cared about one way or another." Vincent was horrified to have even been asked.

Cid crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you telling me that even after this fucking mess I've made of your life that you're still gonna say I'm your friend?"

Vincent's whole world was in flux at the moment, and he figured that it wasn't a good time to decide who was or wasn't close to him anymore. "I don't know. Ask me again in a few days. I'm confused about things at the moment."

"Fair enough." Cid settled back into his seat. Yesterday, Vincent had been willing, or so it seemed, to kill him. Maybe it would have been best for their fight to not have been broken up. "I don't want to go like this."

"I know." Vincent closed his eyes for a moment, wondering if this was what rock bottom felt like. His son was missing, his wife was possibly carrying someone else's child, his best friend had screwed his wife, that same friend was now dying of some God forsaken disease, and he was a raging alcoholic. After all, here he was the morning after his final admittal of dependency, helping himself to a spiked coffee. Suddenly, something welled up within Vincent and he stood, sending his chair crashing to the floor behind him.

Cid's eyes went wide, as he didn't know what was going on. He remained in his place, not sure if he should run or not.

Vincent scowled at the cup he held in his right hand. "This is the end. I'm going to fix all of this, and I'm going to do it now." He proceeded to hurl the coffee cup across the kitchen, sending it smashing into the cabinets beneath the sink. Fragments of ceramic went everywhere. Vincent then turned his attention to the bottle sitting on the table. He grabbed it and went over to the sink, dumping its contents down the drain. "I've had enough. I've fucking had enough."

Cid got up from his seat and slowly approached him. "Vince?"

He spun around, eyes blazing. "I've done all this to myself. I've hurt everyone around me. I can't take it anymore. It can't get any worse."

It was clear to Cid that Vincent had made some sort of decision regarding the situation at hand. Now whether it was to get help and make up with Tifa, or to submit to his previous suicidal drives, the pilot didn't know. "What are you gonna do?"

Vincent took a few steps away and opened up a cabinet that contained the house's cache of liquor. It was from these bottles that Vincent catered to his addiction whenever he didn't go to the bar. He took them all up and over to the sink, where he started to empty them one by one.

Cid just stood at his side and watched. Apparently, Vincent was going to give actually coping with his feelings like an adult a try. He couldn't help but smile and he placed his hand on the other man's shoulder. "Tifa's gonna be real happy about this, Sue."

Vincent froze for a moment when he felt Cid touch him. He turned his head and stared into the pilot's blue eyes.

Cid wondered if he'd crossed some sort of line by touching Vincent. He let his hand slide away. "What?"

"Get the beer, too."

Cid knit his brow. "Come again?"

"The beer, in the fridge, get it." Vincent turned his attention back to his pouring.

Immediately, Cid looked disgusted. "You're not really gonna dump all that perfectly good beer down the drain!"

"It all has to go. Everything." Vincent looked at Cid again. "Besides, you shouldn't be drinking at all."

"I'm dead already, Vincent. A little alcohol ain't gonna matter. It's like pissing on the proverbial forest fire." Cid moved away and toward the refrigerator, ready to get what Vincent had asked for, unhappy about it or not. He grabbed the eight bottles he spotted and brought them over to Vincent, setting one down on the table on the way.

With the other alcohol now gone, Vincent flipped the tops off of the seven bottles Cid had placed on the counter and dumped them as well. Soon, the sink was full of empty bottles.

The pilot went back over to the table and sat again, opening the one beer he'd saved from needless destruction. Before it got to his lips, however, Vincent reached over him and plucked the bottle from his hands.

Cid turned in his seat, and watched as Vincent drained this last bottle into the sink like the others. "You know, I was going to drink that."

Vincent paid him no attention for several seconds. "You shouldn't be drinking. We went over that already."

"Full of the same social grace as ever, I see." Cid leaned back in his chair and took his coffee cup into his hands again. He sat and watched as Vincent then got to the task of cleaning up the remains of the coffee cup he'd thrown across the room earlier.

With things as he figured they should be, Vincent came back over and sat. He considered the man before him for awhile. "We'll take good care of L.C."

"I know, that's why I asked you." Cid finished his drink. "And it's another reason why you and Tifa need to get things sorted out. I don't want my kid going into a home that's gonna fall apart. He's already been through that shit with Jin bailing on us after six years."

Jin had been, for all intensive purposes, the closest thing to a mother that L.C. had possessed. Her sudden removal from the kid's life surely had effected him on some level, an idea that Vincent had never given thought to before. "How's he coping with that?"

"The kid's tough. Generally, he won't let onto the fact that something's bothering him. He's asked me a couple of times, though, if she was ever coming home. All I've been able to tell him is that I really don't know." Cid's expression turned sad again.

"And how are you going to tell him about the cancer?" Vincent asked, not hearing the door opening down the hallway.

Cid shrugged. "I don't know. How do you tell a seven year old that you're gonna die in a few months?"

The small gasp that was heard from the doorway to the kitchen caused both men to turn immediately. Standing there in his pajamas was L.C. There were already tears in his eyes. He'd known over the last two days that something was wrong with his father, and having heard Cid's last remark, it was now all too clear to the boy.

Cid regretted the fact that his son had just listened in, but knew that the subject had to be dealt with. "Come here, kid."

L.C. shuffled forward, tears marking his cheeks. He came over and sat on Cid's lap. "Dad? You're…you're gonna die?"

Cid frowned for a moment. "The doctor told me a few days ago that I'm really sick, L.C."

"Why? What's wrong? Why can't the doctors fix you?" the boy asked, his innocence heartbreaking.

"I've got cancer in my lungs, kid." Cid wiped some of the tears from his boy's face. "They said I've only got about four months. They can't fix it, because by the time they found it, things were already too messed up."

L.C. tried to put up a brave front, knowing that his father disapproved of crying, but this was just more than a boy could take. He threw his arms around Cid's neck and sobbed against him.

The pilot's heart broke as his son came undone in his embrace. Cid looked across the table, seeing Vincent stare back. "L.C.?"

The boy sat back and gazed into his father's eyes. "W…what?"

"After I go, you're gonna live with Vincent, Tifa, and Aaron here," Cid said quietly.

L.C. shook his head. "But…but Aaron said that his mom and dad hate each other! I don't want to be here if they're just gonna fight all the time!"

Vincent's eyes went wide to hear this. He'd tried, he really had, to at least keep he and Tifa's troubles away from Aaron, but apparently, he'd failed. It didn't surprise Vincent too much, after all, his son was far more intuitive than most, and with his usual way of wandering around the house in complete silence, it wasn't surprising that they boy would have eavesdropped at some point. He got up from the table, knowing that he needed to go talk to his son.

Cid watched Vincent go, before saying anything else to L.C. "They don't hate each other, kid. They were having some problems, but those are gonna get better now. By the time you come here to live, things will be just fine."

L.C. just started crying again. At seven, he may have been a mature boy, but this was more than anyone could bear.

Vincent entered Aaron's room, finding that his son was awake and dressed, sitting on his bed. He cocked his head to the side as his father entered and closed the door behind him.

Vincent went over and sat beside his son, looking down into his eyes. "Do you really think that your mother and I hate each other?"

Aaron's gaze dropped away, ashamed that his belief had gotten out. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you two fight all the time," he said simply.

"We never have fought in front of you, Aaron." Vincent leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"No, you usually do it after I go to bed, but I hear everything." He felt a sting in his eyes and turned away, not wanting his father to see him cry.

Vincent was hurt to hear this. All along, he and Tifa had believed that the boy had slept through the fights. "You weren't asleep?"

Aaron narrowed his eyes and scoffed, "Did you actually think I could sleep through that?"

To hear his son so clearly replicate his own biting tone got Vincent's attention. "You were always out when we'd come into check on you afterward."

"I pretended to be asleep. I didn't want you two to have to try and explain to me why you were fighting, since the stories that parents tell their kids about such things are usually a load of crap." Aaron fell over on his side, pulling his legs back up onto the bed.

"Watch your language." Although he knew that the boy was just emulating him, Vincent still didn't want Aaron to act this way.

When Aaron spoke more than a word or two at a time, the fact that he was a lot more advanced than most kids his age showed through. He was intelligent, frighteningly so, and when he was upset, he, like his father, would call things like he saw them. "Maybe you should have watched yours."

Vincent's normal reaction to being talked to this way by his son would have been to get angry, but this time the boy was correct, and had every right to be upset. "Those fights…they were all my fault, Aaron. Don't be mad at your mother for any of it."

"I've wished for a while now that if you two were just going to keep fighting like you have been, that you'd just get a divorce and be done with it. I can't stand living with parents that pretend to like each other when I'm around, but that fight the second I leave the room." Aaron sat back up, finding that he was too upset to lie down.

Vincent allowed himself to crack a little under such a statement. "We may have fought, Aaron, but I never quit loving your mother. I don't want you to say that I hate her, because I don't, and don't you dare ever say that I do."

Aaron nodded shallowly upon this order from his father. "Okay."

"Like I said, the fights were my fault." Vincent let his tone relax a little. "I know I've made your mother miserable, and apparently, I've made you unhappy, too. But that's going to change now."

Aaron looked over at his father. "Why? Why is it going to change now?"

Not knowing what he should say, Vincent fell silent for a moment. "What's going to change is that I'm going to get help."

"And what about you and Cid? Why were you fighting? Yesterday, after you and mom left, he told us that it wasn't anything to worry about, but I know that grown men don't usually go after each other like that unless something really bad has happened." Aaron was now in charge of this conversation and he knew it. His posture changed and his head again cocked to the side.

"Aaron…" Vincent turned to face his son straight on. "Cid and I fought because I was mad at him."

"Why? And don't give me that 'you'll understand when you're older' bit." Aaron ran a hand though his hair.

Vincent felt cornered and he didn't like it. Telling his seven-year-old son that his mother had been unfaithful wasn't something that he felt like he should have to do. "Aaron, what happened isn't something you need to worry about, all right?"

"Fine, I know what it is anyway."

Vincent cocked an eyebrow and stared at his son. "You do?"

Aaron nodded, and began to fidget with his hands. "Yeah. Last time Cid was here, I saw him and mom doing something in the kitchen."

Vincent felt himself flush red and his eyes went wide. "Aaron, you saw that?"

He nodded again. "Yup."

The fact that his son had witnessed what had taken place killed Vincent. He hung his head and sighed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know…it was wrong. I knew it was something that I shouldn't have seen. I didn't want to talk about it. I was trying to forget." The boy was obviously embarrassed by what he'd watched.

Vincent put his arm around his son's shoulders and pulled him close. "Well, you're right. That's what I was mad at Cid for."

"So you hate him now?" he asked.

"I'm upset, and I'm hurt, but I don't think I hate him, Aaron." Vincent kissed the top of his son's head. "What would you think if I told you that L.C. might move in with us?"

"Why would Cid and L.C. live here?" Aaron looked up at his father.

"Not Cid and, just L.C." Vincent forced himself to smile.

"I guess that would be okay, as long as you and mom aren't going to fight anymore. I don't think L.C. would be able to handle that." The boy narrowed his eyes again. "But why would L.C. move here?"

"Well, Aaron, his dad is sick, and he's not going to get better." Vincent hated delivering this news. "Cid's going to die."

Aaron's eyes went wide, and his lips moved to form a word, but no sound came out.

"It's going to be a few months, but after it happens, he'll live here." Vincent held his son tighter. "Is that all right with you?"

"Sure. L.C.'s my best friend." Aaron frowned. "He'd get the guest room for his own, right?"

"I'd imagine so, unless your mom has a girl. If that's the case, then the two of you will probably stay in the same room. We'll worry about it when the time comes." He let his arm fall away from his son and he got up. "While I'm gone over the next few weeks, you'll take care of your mom, right?"

The departure of his father wasn't something the boy was looking forward to. Then again, with him gone, there would be no fighting. "Sure."

Vincent gave him a smile and then stepped out.

As he left the room, L.C. went by with tears in his eyes, going into Aaron's room and shutting the door behind him. Vincent remained there in the hall for a moment, tempted to listen in on what the boys were going to say to one another, but that wouldn't have been right. He went back out to where Cid was sitting, seeing that the pilot had been crying again. "How is L.C. handling it?"

Cid shrugged. "He's upset."

"I'd imagine so. Losing a parent…is really hard." Vincent landed back in his seat.

Cid remembered the story of Vincent's past, remembering that the other man had lost his mother when he was L.C.'s age, and his father when he was fourteen. "What…what do you think going through that did to you? I mean, is there anything you can think of that I can do to help my boy through this?"

Vincent had never been asked such a thing. Terrible things had happened after his parents had died, but it wasn't a result of anything that his mother and father had done. "When they died it hurt, but I don't know about how it affected me long term."

He crossed his arms over his chest, knowing that Vincent was muddling through feelings he hadn't dealt with in a while. Cid decided to give Vincent all the time he needed.

"Actually, that's not entirely true." Vincent slouched in his seat. "I think…I think it made me paranoid on some level."

"How so?" Cid asked.

"Paranoid that everyone that I loved would be torn away from me. That made me want to keep everyone at a distance. Of course, I went on to be ultimately betrayed by everyone that I did let in, proving that my paranoia had been justified." Vincent closed his eyes and sighed. "Betrayed every fucking time."

Cid knew that this was directed at both he and Tifa, and his remorse for the situation erupted again. "Shit. Vincent, I can sit here all damn day and keep telling you I'm sorry, but I don't know what that's gonna change."

Vincent laughed weakly. "You know, I went and talked to Aaron while you were out here with L.C. Do you know what he told me?"

Cid shook his head.

"He told me that he saw you and Tifa do it."

Cid's jaw dropped. "B…but it was three in the morning, and no one was up!"

"If he was up, you never would have known it, Cid. The boy is like a cat. You can't hear him moving around at all. He saw it, of that I have no doubt." Vincent glared at the other man.

If Cid had felt bad before, now it was worse. "I can't fix any of this. Everyone will just be better off after I die."

"Do you really feel that way?" Vincent asked, deciding to get into the pilot's head for a while.

With his defenses down, Cid answered, "Yeah, I'm starting to."

"But people care about you."

"People that I've hurt. My boy needs me, but everyone else's life would be easier if I wasn't around." Cid felt his eyes sting yet again.

"That's not true." Vincent placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Tifa loves you. Yes, what happened between you two is regrettable, but as I've said before, I brought that on myself. But when you die, it will hurt her and I."

"You sure as hell ain't gonna shed a tear over me, Sunshine." Cid almost smiled.

"I might."

Cid, again, felt his jaw drop and he met Vincent's gaze. "Really?"

Vincent shrugged. "I said might."

"That's what I thought. You're just messing with me."

Vincent got up and came around the table. He placed his hands on Cid's shoulders and leaned down close to his ear. "Affair with my wife or not, Highwind, I do love you."

Cid didn't know whether to outright laugh or run out of the room screaming. This was the most un-Vincent like thing Vincent had ever done. He had no idea how to respond.

Vincent smiled faintly to himself, before squeezing Cid's shoulders and then giving the other man a quick kiss on the cheek before straightening back up and strolling out of the kitchen. He was well aware that what he'd just done had shocked Cid, and wished to leave him alone to stew.

Cid continued to remain perfectly still for a long time. The fact that Vincent had just said he loved him and had then gone on to kiss him wasn't sitting well. He realized that Vincent had just done it to mess with him, but it wasn't the sort of joke that he'd come to expect out of the man. After a while, he got up from the table and went outside to feel the morning air. He needed to do the things he liked as much as possible. The number of beautiful mornings like this one that he had left were numbered.

-------------------

Vincent went back into his bedroom, seeing that Tifa was still sleeping. He sat next to her and examined her as she rested. Carefully, he reached out and stroked her hair, causing her to stir.

Her eyes opened and she looked up at him. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." Vincent's expression turned sad. "I spoke with Aaron this morning."

She stretched and sat up, then placing her hands on the sides of her rounded belly. "What about?"

"He told L.C. that we hate each other, so I went and asked him about it. Aaron, so it seems, hasn't actually been sleeping through our arguments, Tifa." He looked away.

She brought her hands up to her mouth. "Oh no… What did you tell him?"

"The truth."

Tifa cocked an eyebrow. "And what was that?"

"That I don't hate you at all. That I've always loved you, and that the fights are going to end." Vincent reached out and put a hand on her stomach, feeling that the baby within was moving.

"Damn it, I didn't want him to hear any of it. He never let on that he knew we were having problems." Tifa put her hand on top of Vincent's, guiding him to a spot where he'd be able to feel the baby kicking better.

"He asked me why Cid and I were fighting, too," Vincent said, noticing the strength of the baby's movements.

"And?"

"I told him that I had gotten angry with Cid, but I opted not to tell him why. It didn't matter, though. He proceeded to tell me that the night you and Cid were together, that he saw you two." Vincent met her gaze.

Tifa froze. This was the worst thing she could have heard. "Vincent…"

He shrugged and then rose from the bed. "There's nothing that can be done about it now, Tifa."

She felt horribly guilty in knowing that her son had witnessed her infidelity. "I can't believe all of this…"

Vincent went over and pulled open the curtains to the room, flooding it with light. "I told Aaron that L.C. will be living with us, and Cid told his son about the situation."

Tifa got up and went over to the dresser, pulling out some clothes. "Poor L.C., what did he do?"

"Cried."

"And?" Tifa asked, pulling on tee shirt.

"I left the room, so that I could talk to Aaron. When I left Aaron's room, L.C. blew past me in the hall and went back inside." Vincent turned and watched as she dressed. Her pregnant form fascinated him. How her body could change so much in just a few months was amazing. The fact that the baby within her might not be his reared up, and he frowned.

She looked over at him, seeing him standing with his arms crossed over his chest. "What?"

"Nothing." He forced a different expression. Vincent knew he had to keep himself from thinking about Tifa and Cid together. "I hope Jaras is all right."

With all that had been going on, Jaras' situation had been the last thing on Tifa's mind. As she buttoned her shorts, she sighed, "This is all just too much to deal with at once."

"Maybe it's better to get it all over at once," Vincent speculated, taking a few steps toward her. "They should be here to get me today."

She nodded, no longer having the will to ask him not to go. "Right."

Vincent placed a hand beneath her chin and brought her to look up at him. "Tell me one more time that you won't do anything with Cid."

Tifa narrowed her eyes. "Vincent, the man is dying. I doubt very much that he's interested now."

"But are you?"

Tifa tensed her jaw. This was starting to seem like a prelude to another one of their fights and she needed to stop it from starting. "No, I'm not. We're not going to fight, Vincent. Don't do this."

He realized that he was being confrontational in his subtle way and put on the brakes before it got out of hand. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

With his hand still forcing her to look up at him, he stared down into her eyes. Heavier from pregnancy or not, she was still beautiful. Vincent bent down and kissed her.

Tifa could taste the liquor on his tongue from his spiked coffee earlier and she pulled away. "You've already been drinking?"

"It was the last time, Tifa." Vincent regretted his morning drink even more now that he'd gotten caught. "I poured all of the alcohol we had down the sink this morning. Every last bottle."

Tifa wasn't sure what to say. "When you're gone, though, you're not going to drink, right? And when you come back, you'll get help?"

Such promises were made to be broken, Vincent thought silently to himself. "I promise not to drink while I'm gone, if you promise not to touch Cid."

Tifa produced a smile. "Deal."

Vincent stepped away from her and went over to the door. Instead of opening it and stepping out, he locked it. He then came back before her.

Tifa wondered what he was up to, but once he was standing before her, she could immediately tell. There was something very distinct in Vincent's body language that she'd come to recognize over the years.

He saw that she knew what was on his mind, and he placed his hands on the sides of her face before kissing her again. After today, he may never see her again if he didn't survive. This may be his last chance to be with her, and he was going to take it.

Tifa placed her hands upon his chest as their lips met, and slowly began to let them trail down his body. When they got to his waist, she was surprised that he stepped back and grabbed her wrists firmly. The look in his eyes wasn't one that she particularly liked.

Vincent stepped closer to her again, letting go of her arms. He placed his hands upon her shoulders and forced her to turn around, then he pushed her forward, so that she was leaning onto the dresser.

Tifa looked back over her shoulder at Vincent as she felt him slip his arms around her and begin to undo the shorts she'd just put on. This wasn't Vincent's usual way of doing things. "Vince?"

He let her shorts and undergarments fall down and hit the floor. Vincent gazed down at how she was offered up to him for a second, before meeting her gaze. His eyes narrowed, and a leer came to his lips.

Tifa was almost frightened by this look. It seemed familiar.

Vincent placed his left arm around her waist, and used his right one to free himself of his jeans. He was already aroused, and without any gentle preparation as was his norm, he just drove straight into her.

Tifa was shocked by this, and moved forward slightly, but found that with his arm around her waist as it was, there was no where to go. She closed her eyes, not accustomed to him just going for it like he had.

Now into her, Vincent slid his right arm up and around her neck, almost placing her in a headlock. He didn't apply any pressure to her throat at all, but she was successfully restrained.

Tifa didn't like this feeling of confinement, but wasn't about to protest. After all she'd put him through, she would let him do this his way. She braced herself against the dresser as best she could.

At first he went slowly as he tended to do, afraid of hurting Tifa in her current condition. He closed his eyes.

Tifa, despite her reservations over the way he had her positioned, began to respond to him. She tilted her hips back toward him, and sighed, "Vincent…"

Vincent listened to the sounds she made and for a moment, he smiled faintly. Then, his mind betrayed him. I bet she sounded just like this when Cid went at her, too. The way she whispers out your name when she really likes it… I wonder if she called out to him like that?

Tifa felt the way he was moving change. His thrusts became more forceful as he seemed to throw caution to the wind. It caused her to writhe against him more, her breathing quickening.

Vincent's wretched mind didn't miss a beat. She likes it. I wonder what she's thinking about. Her eyes are closed. She's thinking about Cid, I know she's thinking about fucking Cid. I'm going to make her forget…

Anger began to build up within him, and his motions became even more forceful. He held onto Tifa tighter as he relentlessly drilled at her.

Now, Vincent was going at her hard enough for it to hurt. She looked up into the mirror on the back of the dresser and saw his face. It wasn't Vincent's normal expression that he wore during such encounters. Instead, he was glaring right back at her, his eyes narrowed, and his teeth bared. Everything about the situation told Tifa that he wasn't doing this with his usual intent of seeing that they both enjoyed the experience. This was his anger coming out in its most frightening form. He didn't seem to care if the way he was moving hurt her. Vincent just wasn't Vincent.

Tifa couldn't take it anymore and she began to struggle to get away from him. Tears were marking her cheeks and she managed to get out of his grasp. She turned to face him, backing away. "What in the hell are you doing?"

Vincent stood there panting. His rage got the better of him. "Is this your new thing? Let a man get into it and then make him stop? Or did you just open your eyes and see me, ruining your little fantasy you had going on about Cid?"

Tifa's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Would you rather I go get Cid to finish the job?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Tifa was now backed against the wall, and she was terrified.

"I don't know, I guess I thought it would be nice to have sex with my wife one last time before I go off to potentially die, Tifa," he growled back.

Tifa looked down at herself for a moment. The tee shirt she still had on was just long enough to cover her. Not knowing what else to do, and being scared out of her mind, she reached over, unlocked the door and ran out.

Vincent was shaking. He reached down and got his clothes back in order before going over to the bed and sitting for a moment. He felt sick, literally sick. Whatever had come over him had not been welcome. Deciding that his stomach really was going to turn on him, he got up and ran to the bathroom, making it just in time to vomit.

-------------------

Cid was still sitting on the porch looking out at the lawn, as Tifa's small flock of chickens walked around, looking for bugs or whatever it is chickens look for. When the door to the house opened, he glanced over.

Tifa was holding onto the bottom edge of her shirt, keeping it pulled down far enough to be decent. Her complexion was flushed, and tears were still upon her cheeks. "Cid?"

It was obvious that something was horribly wrong. He got up and went over to her. "What in the hell is going on?"

Now in Cid's presence, she felt safe enough to let it out. She threw her arms around him, not caring that she wasn't completely dressed. Tifa just clung to him for several minutes before answering. "Oh God Cid… Vincent, he's lost it."

Cid reached down and held her back at arm's length. "He hurt you?"

She was ashamed to admit it. "He didn't hit me or anything, he just… he just got really rough. It was like…"

"It was like what, Tifa?" Vincent growled back. He was standing behind her in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His nausea had abated and he'd come out here to look for her. Seeing her half clothed and in the pilot's arms brought back the anger within him again.

She spun and faced him, pressing her back against Cid. "Vincent, go away."

He didn't comply, and took a step forward. "It was like what, Tifa?"

"It was like Chaos was back," she said, her voice trembling.

Cid's eyes went wide as he listened to her say this. Having tangled with Chaos before, this was not something he wanted to deal with. In one quick motion, he stepped around Tifa, placing her safely behind him. "Vincent, is it you or not?"

"Chaos has been dead for years, you both know that." His expression was cruel. "Tifa, come back inside and talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about, Vincent!" Now behind Cid, she felt braver. "If that wasn't Chaos…"

"Then what?" he asked, taking another step forward.

"Then I can't trust you." Tifa placed her hands on Cid's shoulders. "Leave."

Having been shot in the heart before, Vincent knew what it felt like. It felt like that now. He placed his hand upon his chest and took a few steps backward. The pain within him was intense, and his attempts to draw in a normal breath were lacking. The color drained from his face and he started to fall, but he managed to brace himself against the side of the house. His arms started to ache as well, and his nausea returned. Vincent's head swam, and his vision started to fade. Although he realized that he was losing consciousness, he didn't understand why.

Seeing Vincent's state confused Tifa and Cid for a moment. This was neither Chaos erupting nor a seizure. Something was very, very wrong with Vincent. Tifa suddenly realized that she'd seen this before, but not with Vincent.

It had been Tseng.

And Tseng had been Vincent's brother.

Tseng had suffered from a heart condition.

"Oh shit! Cid, go call an ambulance!" Tifa said, terror in her voice. She rushed over to Vincent's side and helped him get to the ground. With her limited medical experience, there was little she could do.

Vincent's eyes fluttered close and his body went limp as it lay before her. Tifa reached down and searched for his pulse in his neck. She found it, but it was neither strong nor regular. Her suspicion was correct. "Come on, Vincent! Fight this!"

He couldn't hear her. He wasn't aware of anything at the moment.

Cid had gone back into the house and called for help. As quickly as possible, he got back outside and to where Tifa was sitting with the unconscious man. "What the fuck is wrong with him now?"

"I think he's having a heart attack, Cid." Tifa sat there, holding Vincent's hand.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Cid knelt down at his side. "Is there anything that isn't wrong with him?"

Tifa was losing hope. The hospital was well over an hour away, and it would probably take about that long for the ambulance to arrive. If Vincent wasn't going to come out of this on his own, then there was a good chance that he wouldn't come out of it at all. She cried, feeling that her order for him to leave had been what had pushed him over the edge.

Cid heard something and shot to his feet. He ran out onto the lawn and looked up.

ASRIO's airship was overhead and was descending.

Tifa took notice of this as well, and looked out over at Cid. "Airship?"

Cid couldn't hear her over the drone of the fans as the immense craft came closer. Within a few short minutes, it was on the ground and Cid went over to the hatch, waiting for someone to emerge.

Porter opened the door and prepared to step out. The fact that he saw the aging pilot standing before him brought a smile to his lips. "Mr. Highwind?"

"Tell me you brought that fucking doctor with you," Cid said, hoping for a miracle.

"Janice? Yeah, she's with us." Porter cocked his head to the side. "What's going on?"

"Fucking Sue's having a heart attack. Go get her, fast." Cid turned away, so that he could keep an eye on Tifa.

Porter stood there for a moment, shocked at what he'd heard. Once he got a grip, he spun around and made his way to the doctor's cabin. The airship had just picked her up from a medical conference on the way to get Vincent.

Cid went over and back to Tifa. "That doctor woman is on the airship, Tifa. She's coming out."

Instantly relieved, Tifa looked up at Cid. "Thank God."

Porter soon emerged from the ship, followed by Janice. She made her way to Vincent's side and quickly evaluated him.

Janice asked Tifa as she checked Vincent out, "Has he had heart problems before?"

"No." Tifa shook her head. "It was never an issue for him."

"Well, with as bad as Tseng's was, this isn't that much of a surprise." Janice got back to her feet and looked at Porter and Cid. "Help me get him into the airship and to the infirmary."

The two men did as ordered and got Vincent to the infirmary. Tifa ran back into the house to get her shorts and to make sure that the boys were all right before heading to her husband.

When she entered the infirmary she found Vincent lying on a bed, with Dr. Arlin working on getting an I.V. inserted into his arm. He was still unconscious.

Upon seeing that Tifa had arrived, Cid left, feeling that he should be out keeping an eye on the kids.

"Janice, is he going to be all right?" Tifa asked, picking up Vincent's limp left hand.

"His heart's rhythm isn't too bad. I'll run an EKG on him in a bit, though. I just need to get this placed and then I can give him some drugs that will help out." The doctor placed the last piece of tape over the intravenous line. She then picked up a syringe and injected something through the line and into Vincent. Janice suddenly remembered something. "Is he going to panic when he wakes up and realizes where he is and what's happening?"

Tifa had watched Vincent come unglued plenty of times while under medical attention, but it seemed to have gotten better after getting his own body back. Apparently, all the months that he spent in the base's infirmary then had done something to help his phobia. "He's better about it now."

"Good, because I don't want to have to tie him down." Janice unbuttoned Vincent's shirt and began to place the electrodes for the EKG upon his chest.

Tifa watched in silence as the doctor did this and then ran the test. She didn't know the particular significance of the jagged black line that the machine printed out, and anxiously awaited the doctor's interpretation of it.

Janice ripped the strip of paper from the machine and examined it, pushing her glasses up higher on her nose in the process. She nodded knowingly. "He looks okay, but like Tseng, he will probably get worse over the years. He'll need to watch his diet and that sort of thing. I'm hoping that he doesn't drink or smoke."

Tifa frowned. "He drinks. A lot."

Janice caught her tone. She hadn't spoken with Tifa in years, and had no idea that things had gotten out of hand. "Do you think he has a problem with that?"

"He does."

"I see." Dr. Arlin stuffed the strip of paper into her pocket and looked at Tifa. "How far along are you?"

"Thirty-four weeks." Tifa placed her hands upon her stomach.

"Will Vincent be able to handle another baby in the house, in light of what you've just told me?" the doctor asked.

"He said he's going to get help." Tifa thought about how scared she'd just been a short while before. "But I don't know…he sort of lost it this morning and I don't know if I want him around at all."

Unbeknownst to them, Vincent had regained consciousness and heard this last remark. He continued to feign sleep, knowing that it would be an awkward time to do anything.

"Lost it?" Janice knit her brow. "What do you mean?"

Tifa didn't want to get into it, but she knew she had to talk about it. "We were…together this morning. Usually, he's really careful not to hurt me, but this time, it's like all of the anger that he'd been building up lately came out and he got… I'll just say he seemed to not be concerned with not hurting me, at least. Then when I got away from him, he got really mad."

Janice listened to this with her usual cold, clinical expression. "Had be been drinking?"

"Yeah, a little, I guess." Tifa hung her head. "It just reminded me a little bit about the whole incident on this ship with Chaos. The look on his face at the time…it was just like that. The problem is that Chaos is gone now. So, it was Vincent, at least, I think it was, but…"

Janice came around the bed and placed her arms around Tifa. "It's okay. If you're scared of him, then you shouldn't be around him alone, Tifa. You've got to worry about yourself and the baby."

Tifa stepped back from the doctor after a few moments and then looked down at Vincent. She saw something that made her freeze in place.

Janice followed Tifa's stare to Vincent's face. There were tears streaming back from his eyes, even though he still pretended to be asleep. The doctor sighed and placed her hand on Tifa's shoulder. "Why don't you step out for a minute? There's some things that I have to do."

Tifa let go of Vincent's hand, wondering what he was thinking about what she'd just said. Grudgingly, she exited the infirmary.

Janice pulled over a chair and sat beside Vincent. "You can open your eyes now, she's gone. I know you're conscious."

Vincent rolled onto his side and faced the doctor. The tears were still in his eyes. "Janice."

"Long time, no see." She pushed her glasses up again. "So, you heard that, I'm assuming."

He nodded as best he could in his position and then flopped over onto his back. "I've done it. I've lost her. It's over now."

"Have you ever hurt her before?" the doctor asked. "I mean, aside from the Chaos incident that she mentioned?"

"No."

"Then why did you do it now?" Janice leaned forward, wanting to get to the bottom of this.

"I was angry. I just found out that she had an affair with Cid. When I was with her, I couldn't help but think about that. I let that anger get the better of me." Vincent tried to move his left arm, but noticed that he had an I.V. taped into it. "Whenever I've gotten mad, I've always left the house. I've gone off and hidden. This time…I didn't do that. I stayed. I should have left. I want to keep her, Janice, I really do, but it's like everything that I say or do from here on out is going to be wrong and just push her farther away. The things that started going through my mind this morning were horrible. I just keep thinking about her being with that fucking pilot."

"You need to see a counselor, Vincent." Janice wouldn't have been against having Vincent committed for the time being, if not for the plight of his son and what needed to be done. "When we get back to the base, I'll have one of my colleagues from town come down and deal with you. Whether or not it's too late for you and Tifa, you still have some very serious issues that you'll need to deal with."

"No, I won't have any issues to deal with if I lose Tifa." Vincent closed his eyes.

"Are you blaming her for all of your problems?" Janice asked, almost sounding angry.

"No. As I've said to both Tifa and Cid, I caused this. But if she says it's over and she doesn't let me come home after this, then there will be nothing left for me," Vincent growled.

"The threat of suicide usually doesn't get a mate to come back, Vincent. That's the oldest ploy in the book, and you know better." The doctor had spent enough time in the past dealing with the mental disturbances of the man before, and she wasn't afraid of him.

Vincent sat up and looked over at her, cocking an eyebrow. "Threat?"

Janice got up, not willing to play his games. "You just had a heart attack, lay down."

Vincent didn't comply. Instead, he reached over and ripped the I.V. line from his arm, causing blood to run from the site. He placed his hand over the spot, to try and curb the blood flow, but it just seeped between his fingers.

"Nice going." Janice went over and retrieved a small bandage. She came back to Vincent's side and placed it over the catheter site, stopping the bleeding. "You're going to have one hell of a nice bruise there now. Go to the sink and wash up."

Vincent suddenly felt his usual wash of guilt come over him and he shuffled over to the small sink, cleaning the blood from his hand and arm. Once that was done, he faced the doctor again. "So, I have the same problem that Tseng had?"

"It would appear so."

"So now what?" Vincent remained near the sink. There was still a tightness in his chest, but the outright pain was gone.

"You need to take it easy. I'll give you some pills to keep with you, that you can use if you feel another one come on. At some point, you may need surgery like your brother did." Janice went over to a cabinet and retrieved the medication.

"I'm going with ASRIO to go on a mission to get my son, Janice. I can't exactly take it easy." Vincent crossed his arms over his chest, frustrated with the whole situation.

"Then you, like Tseng, may end up dead because you refused to let others handle things. I'm not going to argue with you about it, since you're just as stubborn as he was. You'll keep going right along until you drop dead. Here's the medication. Put one under your tongue if you start to feel chest pain again." Janice held out the bottle to him.

Vincent took it, knowing that he had to ask something that would reveal another weakness of his to the doctor. "There's no interactions with these with other medications, right?"

Janice narrowed her eyes. "What are you on?"

"Sendibril," Vincent replied quietly.

The doctor raised her eyebrows. "You have seizures?"

He nodded.

Janice pursed her lips for a second. "There shouldn't be a problem with the two drugs reacting, Vincent."

"Okay." Vincent slipped the pill vial into his pocket. "I need to go get my things so we can get on our way to the base."

"All right. Find me tonight so I can just check on your heart, okay?" Janice walked with him to the door.

"I will." Vincent gave her a brief smile before stepping out.

On the other side of it stood Tifa. She'd remained out here with her ear pressed against the door, listening to everything that had been said. Briefly, she met Vincent's gaze, but he quickly looked away and passed by her.

Tifa followed him, wanting to say something, but afraid at the same time.

Before he stepped out of the airship, he stopped and turned to her. He knit his brow. "I'm just going to go get a few things from the house, and then I'm going to go."

"But just for four weeks, right?" Tifa stepped closer to him, knowing that she had nothing to fear for the moment.

He just stared at her blankly. "You said you didn't want me around anymore at all."

"Vincent, we still have a baby on the way, and a son." She reached out and placed her hand upon his chest. "Even if things were to fail between us, we're still going to have to deal with each other. You can't just abandon your kids, Vincent."

"I can't abandon my son. We don't really know if the one you're carrying is mine." Vincent looked at her hand placed upon him. "You're right, though. I couldn't just disappear from his life. Even if you don't want me around anymore. You…you don't want me around anymore, correct?"

"I don't know right now, Vincent. I think we both have a lot of thinking to do while you're gone." Tifa looked sad. "Even though you just had a heart attack, you're still going, right?"

By the tone of her question, he realized that she really didn't want him to, demonstrating the fact that she still did want him on some level. "Yes, I'm going."

"Okay. Four weeks, right?"

He nodded shallowly. "Four weeks. Then we can talk. I'm sure I'll have calmed down a little by then."

"You'd better go pack." Tifa let her hand fall away from him.

Vincent leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before turning and heading back to the house.