Chapter Eight
Whoa, hold up there, kids. This chapter is a little, uh, graphic in one place (some of you may recall the original version of chapter 85 from GC). Well, this will fall in that same category. So… ye be warned and enjoy.
Sephiroth sat upon the bed in his cell in just his boxers. He was staring down at the wound in his leg, where his father had shot him. It would heal quickly enough, he knew, but he didn't want it closing up with the bullet still inside of him. With the knife he'd been given in his right hand, he got to the task of finding the slug.
He grit his teeth as he slid the blade into the wound. Sephiroth quickly felt the blade glance off of something solid within, and he knew he'd found what he was looking for. With a growl deep in his throat, he managed to pull the spent bullet from his leg.
Blood began to run from the gunshot due to this, and he tied a piece of the sheet from his bed around his leg, curbing the flow. He then picked up the slug from the bed beside him and examined it.
Peirte was standing over Vincent's body, as it still rested upon the dissection table. When he heard Sephiroth sigh in contemplation behind him, he turned, looking into his cage. He spotted the silver haired man sitting there, still entranced by the fragment of metal he'd pulled from his injury.
The scientist walked closer to the bars. "I could have helped you get that out, if you'd been so inclined."
Sephiroth brought his eyes up to meet the doctor's. "It wasn't necessary. I can tend to myself."
"Very good, then. Does it hurt much? Would you like something for the pain?" Peirte asked, genuinely offering. He himself had been shot once during an assassination attempt, and knew how such injuries tended to ache.
Sephiroth almost smiled. Pain meant nothing to him. "Drugs are a crutch I don't need."
"Very good then." Peirte turned back to Vincent's body.
Sephiorth had watched the scientist perform the autopsy on his father, unmoved by the event, as the emotional attachment he had felt for Vincent before was now severed. He saw that the doctor still had Vincent's chest held wide open with a pair of medical retractors, as he had done this earlier while removing Vincent's destroyed heart.
On another table nearby, Spencer's body was also lying. This man's abdomen had been opened up, as the scientist had been curious to see what the bullets that had struck him had done as well.
Both bodies had some sort of tube driven into each side of their necks, and hooked up to an unknown machine.
Sephiroth had no understanding of certain people's compulsions to dismantle and study the dead. He stared on as Dr. Methius pulled on another fresh pair of surgical gloves and began to explore Vincent's entrails again. "Why?"
Peirte looked back over his shoulder at his prisoner. "What's that?"
"Why bother? One dead man looks like any other on the inside." Sephiroth found it entirely repulsive. "Uncivilized to dissect your fellow man, isn't it?"
Methius laughed. "How else can we learn?"
"I think science has learned all it needs to from the bodies of the fallen." His green eyes narrowed in his contemplation. "Gun shot wounds are nothing novel."
"No, in and of themselves, they are not." Peirte looked down at Vincent's cold, bloodied form. "But there are other uses."
Sephiroth cocked an eyebrow. He'd never been much for conversation, but life in the cage was proving boring. "Uses for the dead?"
"Waste not, want not." Dr. Methius looked down into Vincent's empty chest cavity, seeing that the bullets, by some trick of fate, had not hit his spine. "They could be…useful."
Sephiroth sat silent. He'd watched Hojo raise the dead, this was not a new concept. In fact, his own father had been shot in the heart and killed by that scientist. Being dead in such a manner was nothing new for Vincent Valentine.
Peirte laughed upon thinking about his earlier conversation with Rude. "Mr. Valentine here was a Turk."
Sephiroth was well apprised of his father's history. "I'm aware of that."
"Maybe it's time that he was again." Peirte pulled off his gloves and dropped them into the trash.
His knowledge of medicine may have been limited, but Sephiroth knew a little, thanks to having been raised in Hojo's lab. "He's been dead too long. You have to restore oxygenation to the brain within six minutes of death."
Peirte reached over and touched one of the tubes sticking out of the sides of Vincent's neck. "Pray tell, what do you think this is for? I had him hauled in here within minutes and hooked up to this. Low flow bypass machine. Letting him get cold like I have has reduced his need for oxygen. He is very much revivable at this point." Peirte then motioned over to Spencer. "That one as well."
Sephiroth didn't suppress the smile that came to his lips. "Vincent a Turk again? Don't be ridiculous."
"Oh?" Dr. Methius left Vincent's body alone for a moment and strolled to the cage, crossing his arms over his chest. "He had a reputation as being excellent at what he did."
"The Vincent Valentine that Shinra employed as a Turk died a long time ago." Sephiroth dropped the slug he'd still been holding to the floor, and began to wipe the blade of his knife clean upon his bed sheets. "Over the years, and especially since he has been married, he's became complacent. Domesticated. Far, far to soft to be of any practical use as a Turk anymore. He developed… feelings."
Peirte appreciated this insight from the man's son. "Feelings, you say?"
"Yes, ones that would drive him to go right back home to his wife and child. She's expecting a second baby any day." Sephiroth inspected the knife, seeing that it was spotless again.
"Well, we would need to dig up something to dull his desire to go home then, wouldn't we? Although, with a little subtle mental reprogramming, that shouldn't be too hard." The scientist became thoughtful. Having Vincent Valentine as his own person Turk appealed to him on some level. He'd always admired his predecessor Hojo, and to have this was one more way of being more like him. "Although when people that have been dead like this are reawakened, they are more or less…soulless for a time. It would seem that the spirit and body aren't always that eager to be reunited. They tend to be confused, disoriented, and malleable at first. If you get to them in those first hours, manipulating them is very easy. Beyond that, they can be kept compliant via drugs. We can make Mr. Valentine here into whatever I so desire. As for this other, Spencer, we don't know anything about him, so we will just have to get creative."
Sephiroth knew he had information that could help Peirte. "Grant me a request and I can help you. I know everything about him. My knowledge could be useful."
He had Methius' attention. "And what is it that you wish?"
Sephiroth held up the knife. "A sword."
Peirte grinned. This could prove to be a very good partnership indeed. "Let me go pull some strings for you."
Sephiroth, again, smiled. This was all proving to be too easy.
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Tifa sat with Cid on the porch swing, watching as the boys played in the yard. Actually, it would be more correct to say that they watched L.C. play, as Aaron was doing little more than sitting in the dirt, fidgeting with a rock before him. L.C. had tried to drag his friend into his game, but Aaron, for now, was withdrawn and intended to stay that way for a while.
"I'm worried about Aaron," Tifa said quietly.
Cid nodded. "Yeah, he seemed pretty upset this morning."
"I know." Tifa hung her head. "He's going to have a really hard time with both his dad dying, and us."
"Us?" Cid cocked an eyebrow and turned to face her. "What do you mean, 'us'?"
She felt color come to her cheeks. "Us, Cid. You know what's going to happen between us now that Vincent's gone."
The thought had crossed his mind, but he needed to hear it from her in no uncertain terms. "Tifa, I'm only going to be around for a little while."
"I know, and I told you that if Vincent weren't around, that I'd make these last four months the best of your life." Tifa scooted closer to him.
His heart raced to hear this, but still, the current situation wasn't one that should be leading them into anything right away. "Tifa, he hasn't even been dead for an entire day yet."
She wiped her eyes with her hand. "I know, and it will probably take me a long time to really get over it, but time... well, it's not a luxury we've got, Cid. We already know how we feel about one another."
"Tifa, don't say this sorta thing to me if you're just gonna go back on it." Cid looked out over the yard. "I couldn't stand to go through that."
She placed a hand on his leg. "Cid, let's be honest. My marriage with Vincent was over anyway. It has been for a long time."
He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "Tifa… don't."
"Why not?"
"I don't want you to rush into something with me because you feel alone or obligated or whatever it is. I know I'm not going to be around for long, and I don't want you just to be with me out of pity." These words hurt him terribly.
She fell silent for a moment, and then just decided to say nothing. Tifa rested her head against his shoulder, and felt the tears return. She would just have to show him.
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Derek got to the lab at ten in the morning, as was his norm. He walked in and spotted Dr. Methius working on a cadaver, lying on an exam table. Reluctantly, he went forward, not eager to spend his day elbow deep in the entrails of Peirte's newest project. The young man only gave passing regard Sephiorth, who was leaning against the bars to his cage, watching the scientist's actions. "Good morning, Doctor."
"Oh, Derek." Peirte looked over his shoulder as he went over and picked up some sort of device from a nearby table. "We had a little excitement last night."
The assistant could see that the doctor had clearly been up all night, not that this in itself was unusual for Dr. Methius. "Did we?"
"Yes." He inspected the object in his hands for a few moments, before walking back over to the body. "ASRIO made an attempt to spring Sephiroth last night."
Derek's eyes went wide. Since he had no direct contact with his organization, he was always in the dark as to their plans. "Really?"
"They most certainly did." Peirte began to situate the item he'd been holding into the chest cavity of the body before him. "As you can see, they failed."
"Oh." Derek now wondered if Peirte would disclose the events to him. Asking point blank might bring suspicion upon him.
"Yes. We had a little shoot out. Toskin, I'm afraid, was killed." Peirte shook his head in dismay.
Cold Turk or not, Derek had liked the man in a way. He wasn't pleased with this news. "That's too bad. He was a good guy."
"Wonderful Turk, yes." Peirte turned around and picked up a pair of needle holders and some suture. "And they killed a few guards, but ASRIO lost some men as well."
Derek started to approach the scientist slowly, wondering which poor ASRIO agents were undoubtedly lying on the exam tables.
He pointed to the table next to the one he was working at. "Yes, over there is Spencer."
Not having personally known the man, Derek was able to go without any reaction. "Spencer, huh?"
"Yes, and get this." Peirte reached up and pulled back the edge of the surgical drape that was obscuring the face of the body he was working on. "Recognize this one?"
Derek immediately thought that the man in question looked an awful lot like Vincent Valentine, but he'd never met the man in person, and figured he could be mistaken. "He looks like someone…"
"Come on, say it!" Dr. Methius was giddy with excitement over his new prize possession.
"Vincent Valentine?" Derek certainly hoped that this wasn't the case.
"Very good." Peirte glanced over at his assistant and smiled. "They actually sent in Vincent Valentine. Luckily, thanks to the fact that all of Hojo's work upon him had been undone by ASRIO some time ago, we now find ourselves with a clean slate. Exciting, isn't it?"
Derek frowned as he looked at the dead man. "Sure, exciting."
"Go get some gloves on, I could use some help with this." Peirte motioned over toward the cabinet where they were kept. "Time's wasting."
Derek cringed inwardly. He hated nothing more than surgical assisting, especially on cold bodies like this one. The way their chilled flesh felt through those thin latex gloves was not something he relished.
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Feeling horrible, Tifa went back to her room to take a nap that afternoon. Cid had brought the cloak and gun into here earlier, placing them upon the upper shelf in the closet. Realizing that she needed to lock up the gun again, she pulled down its case and set it on the bed, before going back to the closet and retrieving the gun and cloak.
She held the gun for a moment, examining it. There were tell tale signs upon it that it had been fired at some point during the mission. He'd gone down fighting. Tifa dropped the clip from the weapon, seeing that it still had bullets in it. She examined the clip, seeing that it was the same one that Tseng had gotten engraved for Vincent's birthday seven years ago.
Deciding that reminiscing about this weapon was going to do no more than upset her, Tifa placed the Death Penalty back into the case and closed it. She had never bothered to ask Vincent what the combination to the box was, and it was locked away now, perhaps forever.
After getting the gun's case back upon the shelf where it belonged, Tifa went and sat on the edge of the bed and took the cloak back into her hands. She brought it to her face and inhaled deeply. Even though Vincent had only had it for a short while, his unmistakable scent had already permeated it-- his distinct mixed smell of tea, soap, and chocolate met her. Soon, even this last hint of him would fade, and so Tifa made it a point to burn it into her memory.
She moved to lie down upon her side of the bed, and threw the cloak over herself. As Tifa did this, she heard the distinct crinkle of paper. She sat up again and turned the cloak over, knowing that there was a pocket within it. After reaching into it, her fingers encountered a few things and she pulled the contents out and placed them on the bed next to her.
There were a few small mints, and two neatly folded pieces of paper. One was labeled with Tifa's name, the other with Cid's. She picked up the one with her name, and could feel that something was wrapped within it.
Carefully, she unfolded her note, and Vincent's wedding ring fell forth, landing in her lap. She picked it up and set it upon the nightstand for the moment, and read what he'd written in his meticulous handwriting.
To My Wife,
If you're reading this, then I suppose I didn't make it back from the mission. Most likely this means that I am dead, or possibly being held prisoner, but I think we both realize that I would, at this moment, prefer it to be the former.
Tifa, I'm sorry that I've hurt you. It's funny, I sit here writing this, thinking back to when I came to you seven years ago. I told you that I didn't think that Cloud was the man you'd hoped he would be, and that I could be that man. Turns out, I guess, that I was wrong. I was just as much a failure as he was to you. For that, I can only apologize.
I accept my share of the blame for what went wrong between us. Throughout it all, though, know that I never stopped loving you, Tifa. I'm sure that if I have died that you and Aaron were undoubtedly the last things I would have thought of. Tell Aaron that I love him, too.
The sad part is, I know who the man is that you should have been with, the one that you've actually been emotionally attached to from the outset. If I had just stayed away, you could have been with him long ago. For this, I also apologize.
Now I'm out of the picture, and the man that you really love is dying. God damn it, Tifa, I'm so sorry for everything. Maybe Cid only has a short time left on this Earth, but go ahead and be with him. It's better than never getting the chance at all, and I think it would make his final days bearable for him. He loves you, Tifa, just as much as I do, and I know how important he's always been to you.
I'm sorry that it had to end this way. If I'd been more of a man over the last few years, I never would have let things get this out of control, my greatest regret being that I'm only figuring it out now, and possibly before dying. I want nothing more at this moment than to get back home and into your arms, perhaps to be granted your forgiveness. Somehow, though, I guess I know that isn't going to happen, hence why I'm writing this.
Take care of yourself, Aaron, and the baby, whomever the father may be. I know I never wanted to take part in your discussions over what to name the new child, but if it's a girl, I've always liked the name Charlotte. I guess that's another thing I should have told you in person, but this is the best that I can do now.
I love you, Tifa. Never doubt that I do.
Vincent
Tears in her eyes, Tifa carefully folded the letter back up and set it down upon the nightstand, next to Vincent's wedding ring. This letter had broken her heart. She was tempted to read what he'd written for Cid, but she would respect this and not open it, merely placing it on what had been Vincent's pillow before lying back down and once more covering herself with the cloak.
Cid came in a little while later to check on her. He sat down carefully, not wanting to wake her. Seeing that she was covered with Vincent's cloak confirmed his suspicion that she still did love him.
The small white note placed upon Vincent's dark green pillowcase caught his eye. When he saw that his name was written upon it in Vincent's handwriting, he reached over and took it. Knowing that the sound of the paper rustling might wake up Tifa, he went ahead and left the room, walking out to the kitchen and sitting at the table. He unfolded it.
Cid,
Well, like I said in Tifa's note, if you're reading this then I didn't make it. Dying in action is what I always suspected would happen to me though, so I can't say that I'm surprised.
Look Cid, we've had our differences, but over the years, I've come to have a healthy respect for you. Emotionally, you've been one of the strongest people I've ever known, but even you weren't infallible, it would seem. I can't blame you for loving Tifa, hell, even I was able to fall in love with her. I know that the two of you were only together for those few moments, but really, on some level, you and she have been together in a way for ages. I would think that saying this would upset me, but the truth is that it doesn't. You've been there for her emotionally when I refused. You've probably kept her going. I don't know what I'm trying to say here, I'm terrible at this sort of thing. I feel like an idiot for writing this as it is.
What I really need to say here is that I'm glad that you can be there for Tifa, even if you are sick. Knowing that you can take care of her, at least for the immediate future, comforts me in a way. If I thought she had to get the news of me being dead and then spending those first few days alone, I would feel worse.
I let her down, Cid. I know that. All I can ask of you is to not make the same mistake I have, but then again, you're stronger than me, and a man who knows his heart and doesn't waver in his convictions… well, usually.
Be with her, take care of her, and my boy. Be there with her when that baby is born. Make sure that she's going to be all right, that is what I ask of you.
Cid, I wasn't just messing with you the other day. I do love you and I just hope that you, like Tifa, can forgive me for what I became over the years. You've been a good friend, despite certain things.
Whatever happens between you and Tifa from here, know that you have my consent. You'll recall the discussion that you and I had prior to my surgery all those years back. I still stand by those words. You're the only one that I would be willing to leave Tifa with. Love her, Cid, just never hurt her. She's been through enough of that.
Your Friend,
Vincent
Cid had to wipe the tears away from his eyes as he went to the guestroom and stuffed this note into his coat pocket. He wouldn't let Vincent down.
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Rude woke up, seeing that it was two in the afternoon. He'd more or less blown off going to work today. His hangover had been bad enough this morning to keep him in bed. Being the head of the Turks had its advantages. If he so opted not to show up to work every once in a while, no one would question him on it.
He reached over and grabbed the beer bottle that was sitting on his nightstand and took a drink from it. The contents of the bottle were flat and warm, but it was still beer.
That done, his eyes landed upon his cell phone lying on the floor next to his small bed. He reached down and picked it up, hitting a speed dial button, and settling back, waiting for someone to answer.
"What?"
Rude smiled in his faint way. "Reno, talk to me."
"Shit." Reno got up from the table in the restaurant he and his family were having a late lunch at and strolled outside. "Sorry 'bout that. Angel gets all pissy if I talk on the phone at the table."
Rude couldn't care less about the etiquette being imposed upon his best friend by his wife. "What happened?"
Reno leaned up against the side of the brick building. "We went in to get Jaras, but he was already injected. Waste of fucking time."
"I heard about Vincent." Rude closed his eyes as his head still ached.
"Yeah, Vinny…" Reno looked around, seeing that there wasn't anyone on the sidewalk near him. "They got Vinny."
"Sorry to hear that."
"Yeah, everyone's taking it pretty hard. And we lost Spencer, too." Reno frowned.
"That's Quigley's brother, right?" Rude asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah." Reno shrugged. "I don't know what to do. I mean, if Jaras is now Sephiroth again, I can't very well let that just go. ASRIO needs to do something, but I don't know…"
Rude wasn't used to hearing self doubt in his former comrade. "If I find out anything of use, I'll let you know."
"I know you will, you always do." Reno sighed heavily. "I feel like such a fucking fool, guy."
"It'll work out, Reno. At least you made it out alive."
"That's not all that comforting at the moment. I should probably get back to lunch. I'll… I'll call you later." Reno started back toward the restaurant's entrance. "Bye."
Rude simply hung up.
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Peirte stood above his work, seeing that things seemed to be operating as they should. The small pump's motor was turning, producing a low hum. If all went well, this would work.
He looked back to Sephiroth's cage, seeing that he was sitting upon his bed, admiring the sword he'd been given. "Is it to your liking?"
His green eyes turned up from the blade. "It will do."
"So, what is it that you can tell me that might sway the mind of Mr. Valentine?" Peirte asked, releasing the rib spreaders and getting to the task of closing up Vincent's chest. "Derek, bring me the wire cutters, would you?"
"He will want to go home, unless he is made to believe that there is nothing worth him going home to." Sephiroth looked at his reflection on the polished sword.
"And how do I go about that?" Peirte asked, as he began to weave surgical wire through Vincent's rib cage in order to close it back up.
Derek just assisted the doctor in silence, paying close attention to all that was being said. If this worked, if Vincent actually were revived, he would have to drop ASRIO as much information as possible.
Sephiroth smiled and set the blade down. "Dr. Methius, dismiss your assistant for a moment, would you?"
Peirte raised his eyebrows and looked at Derek. "Be so good as to step out for a moment, Derek."
Feeling his heart race, Derek did as ordered. He wondered if he was about to be ratted out, since he had told Jaras who he was. It seemed like Sephiroth had his memory intact.
"Now, what is it?" Peirte turned to his prisoner.
"Your assistant is an ASRIO plant," Sephiroth said.
"Really?" Peirte outright laughed. "Oh, that's good, that's very good. You had me there for a moment."
Immediately looking annoyed, Sephiroth stood up and came over to the cage bars. "I am not joking. How do you think ASRIO knew I was here? He told me he was a plant as soon as I got here."
Dr. Methius wasn't willing to just off handedly accept this. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility, but Sephiroth could be manipulative. "I can have Derek tailed for a time to see if your claim is true."
Sephiroth shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. Normal humans were unbearably stupid. They would believe the most ridiculous lies, and refuse to accept the truth. "In any event, you need to find a reason for Vincent not to want to go home."
"Yes, and that is?"
Although he had no idea of Tifa's infidelity with Cid, he had his suspicions. "His wife, Tifa, has a history of not necessarily being completely… steadfast in her commitment to him. If you could catch her in a compromising position with another man, it would drive Vincent mad."
He had Peirte's attention. "Oh?"
"Yes, you see seven years ago even though I, as Jaras, had just met her, I got her to kiss me despite the fact that she was with my father. She also left her previous husband for my father, so she isn't exactly one to stand by her man 'til the end of time, as it were." Sephiroth smiled, remembering what it was like to kiss her. "Not only that, but her best friend is a man, and over the years, I've noticed a certain chemistry between the two of them. Part of me suspects that upon hearing of Vincent's death, that she would climb right into bed with Cid."
"Perhaps having some cameras and bugs placed in her home are in order. Of course, we'd need to know where that house is." Dr. Methius became thoughtful.
Again, Sephiroth smiled. "I've been there."
"And I suppose that you would like something in exchange for that information as well?" Peirte pushed his glasses up with his bloodied hand.
"Of course." Sephiroth motioned down at his body. "Some decent clothes."
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Quigley had left Midgar upon receiving the news of his baby brother's death and had gone straight back to the ASRIO base. After throwing his things into his room there, he'd slogged off to the lab, needing to distract himself from his pain.
Upon entering the lab, he spotted Porter sitting before a computer terminal. He couldn't even muster a greeting for his old friend.
When he saw Quigley enter, Porter got up and made his way to the other man, seeing that his eyes were tired and bloodshot. Porter himself was at a loss for words, and just went forward and took him into his arms.
Ever since Quigley's little brother, six years his junior, had gotten out of the service, he'd been working for ASRIO. Although the researcher was excited to have his brother around and working close by, he had been nervous from the outset of Spencer getting hurt or killed on a mission. Having been in the Special Forces, Spencer had always been drawn to danger, not necessarily a trait that he shared with his brother.
Now, Quigley's worst nightmare had come to pass, and he was heartbroken. Being in Porter's arms, he couldn't help but break down. "Porter…my baby brother…"
Porter held him tighter. "I'm so sorry, Quig."
Ashamed of his blatant display, Quigley was reluctant to back out of Porter's embrace until he stopped sobbing like he was. "My only fucking brother… I feel so alone…"
Aware that Quigley had no other surviving family made Porter just feel that much worse. He brought the other man out to arm's length and placed his hands on the sides of Quigley's face, locking him into his gaze. "Quig, you're not alone, okay? As long as there is breath in my body, you'll never be alone. I know Rayna loves you, too."
Quigley managed a smile. "Thanks."
Porter let his hands fall away from him. "Okay, wanna get to work, then? I've gotten the new research our guys got out of the Nibelheim facility cracked."
"Sure thing, let's get to it." Quigley backed away and turned toward the computer.
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Night fell, dinner had been served, and now Cid and Tifa found themselves at the kitchen table, each working on a before bedtime cup of tea. They had gone into town that evening to pick up dinner and get some groceries. When they had gotten home from this, Tifa had noticed that the back door to the house had been left slightly ajar. She hadn't given much thought to it and had just closed and locked it. Tifa figured that one of the boys must have just not shut it all the way. This door had been a little tricky like that for the last few years. Vincent had always said that he was going to fix it, but never actually had. Maybe Cid would.
The boys had gone to bed, and an awkward silence had fallen over them as they both dwelled on the letters that they had read from Vincent earlier that day.
Cid eventually sat his cup down and crossed his arms over his chest. "Tifa, we need to talk about it."
She raised her eyebrows and looked at him. "Huh?"
"What did Vincent write in yours?" he asked, having seen the letter to her sitting on the nightstand.
"He apologized for what had happened to our marriage and that he knew he was going to die." Tifa looked down into her teacup.
"What else?" Cid asked, narrowing his eyes, aware that there had to have been more.
Tifa closed her eyes and sighed. "That he felt bad for having stood between you and I."
Cid cocked an eyebrow. "Oh…"
"And that I should make the most out of the time we have left." Tifa produced a faltering smile and looked up. "And yours? What did he say to you?"
Cid swallowed hard and shrugged. "That you and I were the ones that should have been together."
Tifa's eyes widened. She wouldn't have thought that Vincent would have said such a thing to Cid. "Really?"
"Yeah. Telling me that if…you know, that it was okay." Cid felt color come to his cheeks.
And there it was. They had the blessing of a dead man to begin a short lived, ill fated tryst that could only last the final few months of what had been a fourteen year long relationship.
Tifa hung her head, remembering how quickly she had been willing to sleep with Vincent after Cloud's death. Now here she was, about to do it again. As she had said earlier though, time was just not a luxury that she and Cid had. "He knew."
Cid nodded, after a brief coughing fit. "Yeah."
Tifa's heart was starting to race, and she felt her hands shaking. "So… now what?"
"We keep it behind closed doors and away from the boys." Cid didn't want to cause any more damage to their sons than had already been done. "They can't know, Tifa."
So even though they finally had the chance to be together, it would still have to be kept a secret. That was a secret Tifa felt she could keep. "Okay."
Cid slowly got up from his seat and went to put his cup in the sink. That done, he went back over to Tifa and held his hand out to her. "Come on."
Tifa took hold of him and rose from her seat, following as he led her to the bedroom. She now had a sweat on her skin, and her shaking had gotten worse. The strange thing was, holding onto Cid's hand as it was, she could feel that he was trembling, too.
Once inside, Cid locked the door and then went and sat on the edge of the bed. He stared over at Tifa as she hovered over by the dresser, looking scared. "Tifa, I'm not gonna do anything that you don't want me to. You don't have to be afraid of me."
She nodded and stepped closer to him and sat on the edge of the bed as well, placing her hands upon the sides of her stomach. The baby was being still again. "Cid…"
He slid to the floor and knelt before her, taking her face into his hands. His shaking had gotten worse. His blue eyes seemed to be looking right into her, searching for something. There was a certain desperation in his expression.
Tifa realized that he was looking for consent, and not the momentary and fleeting sort that she'd granted him seven and a half months ago. This was for keeps.
Not sure if she was committed to this or not, Cid couldn't keep from asking. "Tifa, you've got to tell me what you want."
She closed her eyes and admitted the truth, even though it shamed part of her deeply to do so. "I want…you, Cid."
He just continued to stare at her for a few moments, making sure that she wasn't going to waver in this decision. "And are you sure?"
Tifa opened her eyes again and looked back into his. "Yes."
Cid smiled faintly for a moment, feeling himself stir with arousal for the first time in ages. "If you change your mind, Tifa…"
"I won't do that to you again, Cid." She leaned forward until her lips met his.
The brief time they had been together before had not been anything that reflected Cid's style at all. That was a drunken and uncertain moment for him, but this now was different. Cid was a man that was accustomed to being in charge, whether it was flying an aircraft or making love. He guided his lovers with just as much certainly and care as he did anything that he was controlling. He knew what he liked, and his confidence in himself was unwavering. His hands trailed down her body for a moment, until they found the waist to the jeans that she'd put on. Being maternity jeans, they had no buttons or zippers, and he began to pull that them, until she lifted herself a small way so he could pull them off completely, taking her undergarments with them.
Even though her lower body was now exposed, Cid didn't look at her, just staring into her eyes as they faced each other. He was waiting for her to show him that she really did want to proceed.
Sensing the reason for his hesitation, Tifa reached down and unbuckled his belt, and then undid his khakis. She slipped her hand inside, beneath his boxers.
Cid closed his eyes at this first tentative touch. The fact that this was really going to happen almost hurt. When he opened his eyes again, he was wearing a smirk. "Tifa?"
After being with Cloud and then Vincent, Tifa wasn't accustomed to there being any talking after a sexual encounter had begun. "Yeah?"
His smirk widened. "Take off your shirt."
Her eyes went wide. Being pregnant had made her self-conscious about her body, her breasts in particular. Never had Vincent or Cloud blatantly made a request in such a way to her, and she blushed. "Uh…"
Cid cocked his head to the side. "Come on, we're a little past that, Tiff. Take it off."
Slowly, she did as asked and pulled off her tee shirt, leaving her in nothing more than her bra.
He couldn't resist looking at her body anymore and gazed down. Cid reached around her and unhooked her only remaining bit of clothing, then pulling it off her and tossing it to the side.
Tifa closed her eyes as his mouth met her chest feverishly. She still had her hand upon him, and felt his anticipation get worse. He wasn't making the slow, uncertain sort of movements that her previous two lovers had, this was entirely different.
Cid reached down and pushed his pants lower, freeing himself of them and then pulled off his own shirt. Once more he looked into her eyes. "Lay back and just try to relax, okay?"
Again, Tifa complied with this request. Being pregnant and so far along precluded her from actually being able to remain face to face with her partner close enough to kiss, was something that she didn't like. Once more she closed her eyes as he pushed her knees apart further and then touched her. She wished that the light were off, that's how it had usually been in the past for her. It wasn't, however, and even though she wasn't looking, she could feel Cid's eyes inspecting her. She felt one of his fingers slide into her and she gasped.
Cid wasn't familiar enough with her in this way and he needed to know. "Is that okay?"
This was all just so strange to her. "Yeah…"
"Good." Cid continued to prepare her for a few more minutes until he couldn't wait anymore. He slid his hands under her thighs, raising them slightly.
When she felt him drive into her, she again gasped and propped herself up on her elbows. Daring to open her eyes, she saw that he was looking right back at her, his eyes narrowed and the smirk still upon his lips.
"Still okay?" he asked, moving slowly.
Tifa just nodded back at him, and then closed her eyes once more. He was just so different than Vincent and Cloud, but not in a bad way at all.
After a few minutes, Cid knew that she was accustomed to him, and he stopped moving for a moment. "Tiff?"
Once more she looked at him, wondering what was on his mind now. "Yeah?"
The fact that she was so shy about the whole thing was just endearing her to him more. "I'm gonna do something, and I'm guessing that it's not something that either of the last two knew how to do. If it bothers you, let me know, okay?"
She had absolutely no worldly idea what he was up to. "Okay."
He flashed her a quick smile and then resituated himself so that he would be able to thrust into her at a slightly different angle. Cid had a trick.
Most women go through life hearing about the infamous G spot, but never actually experiencing anything to indicate that it does, in fact, exist. The vast majority of men in the world have no idea where it is, and needless to say few ever learn how to get to it. Cid was not most men.
When he thrust into her this time, it was deliberate and for a goal. Tifa's eyes went wide and she cried out, the intensity of what she felt as he did this beyond anything she'd experienced before. "Oh God, Cid…"
His smile returned. "Something new, huh?"
She looked up into his eyes. "Yeah…"
Pleased with her reaction, he kept at it, needing to remind her every few minutes to keep her cries quieted, lest the boys hear.
This new sensation was just more than she could bear and within five minutes, she was thrown over the edge, sitting up slightly as she did so, and placing her hands upon his hips to keep him in place.
As Tifa did this, Cid could feel her body react, and when he heard her whisper out his name one more time, he knew that he'd given her what she wanted. Now, it was his turn. "Tiff?"
She met his gaze again, her satisfaction obvious. "What?"
"I know it's probably not easy, being in your condition and all, but do you think you could cowgirl?" he asked point blank.
She had never been asked such a thing and had no idea what he meant. "Huh?"
"Tiff," he felt a little self-conscious having to spell it out, "you know, ride me."
Although she'd just experienced the most powerful climax of her life, Tifa was immediately aroused again to hear him say this. It might not be easy under the circumstances, but she would give him what he wanted. "Okay."
That devilish smile flashed once more, and he pulled away from her and then moved to lie down upon the bed.
Tifa got up and crawled over to Cid, giving him a kiss before straddling him. She placed her left hand upon his shoulder and used the other to guide him back into her, sighing deeply as she did so.
Cid wasted no time and began to move beneath her, seeking his own end. Her long hair fell down over him as he bucked under her, enshrouding him in a welcome darkness. Being with Tifa like this was all he had really wanted for so long, that now that it was happening, he didn't know what else he could possibly ask for. He let his hands run over her body as they went, and within minutes, he felt control slipping away, yet, he needed to know something. Breathlessly, he asked, "Tiff… can I… inside you?"
She threw her head back, and pressed down onto him with more force. There was nothing that she wanted more. "Yeah…"
That was the last thing he needed and he let go within her, growling as he did so, "God damn, Tifa…"
Feeling that he was done, Tifa carefully moved from him and landed at his side, draping an arm over his chest. "Cid?"
He turned his head and looked at her, an expression of deep relief upon his face. "What's on your mind?"
"That…that was amazing." Tifa had no idea that it could be that way. Vincent had been good and had never let her down, but this had been above and beyond.
With his ego thusly boosted, Cid rolled over onto his side and kissed her passionately. For the moment, he no longer cared if he only had a few months to live. Tifa was finally his. When their lips finally parted, he stared into her eyes. "Tifa?"
"Yes?"
He was finally going to be able to say it and have it mean to her what it did to him. "I love you."
She smiled. "I love you, too."
---------
Peirte Methius had now gone two days without sleep. This was no matter for him, as when he had work to be done, he could stay up much longer without losing his acuity. He had both of his would be Turks closed up from their surgeries, and had their bodies slowly warming. Once Spencer's body temperature was high enough, he'd attempt to restart his heart and take him off of the by pass machine. Vincent, on the other hand, was already on his own, since his heart, his artificial heart, was already working.
Sephiroth looked on, glad that the bodies were no longer laid open. He wasn't a fan of watching surgery, but there was piteously little else to do for him as it was. "Just using them as Turks is a bit of a waste, don't you think?"
"What would you rather see them do?" Peirte turned and examined Sephiroth. Due to his disclosure of Vincent's residence's location, he'd been given some new clothes. He was now wearing a pair of black form fitting jeans, military boots, and a black dress shirt. He was an impressive physical specimen.
"Well, I should think that since ASRIO has infiltrated Shinra so completely, that it might be nice for Shinra to, shall we say, return the favor?" He flipped his hair over his shoulder.
Peirte liked the sound of that. "Ah, that would be very interesting now, wouldn't it? I would have to be assured of their loyalty first, but that shouldn't be too hard."
"And I think that it would be good for me to go with them."
The scientist smiled to himself and shook his head. "At this point, I think that you would just run away, Sephiroth."
"I would not." He narrowed his eyes.
"Well, maybe you wouldn't. You're not finished yet." Methius came over and leaned against the cage bars, not fearing Sephiroth in the least.
"I'm not finished?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No." Peirte smiled. "You've only had one injection. It will take at least six for you to begin to regain your more supernatural abilities. For now, you are not much more than a normal man."
Although he knew he hadn't felt the stirrings of his old powers yet, he had hoped that they would be something to just develop over time. To hear that he needed to be injected again just made him eager to get more Jenova. "Then inject me."
"Perhaps I will let you go with Mr. Valentine and Spencer here back to ASRIO, with the understanding that if you behave as you should, that I will give you more Jenova upon ASRIO's destruction and your return here." Peirte crossed his arms over his chest. He was aware that negotiating with Sephiroth could be done, if he believed that the pay off was worth while.
To Sephiroth, this was worth while. "Then we have a deal."
The scientist smiled. Toppling ASRIO and ending their incessant meddling in company affairs would prove to be…rewarding. "Wonderful. I will grant you something else in light of this… idea."
Sephiroth smiled and tossed a small piece of paper over toward where Peirte was standing. "I want those."
The scientist reached between the bars and retrieved the note. Upon it were written the titles of several books. "I think I can manage this."
Again, Sephiroth smiled. "And I need my glasses out of my pack that I had when I was abducted."
"Certainly." Peirte knew where that was and headed to his office.
---------
Derek had left the lab and gone homeward. He had no idea what had been said between Sephiroth and Dr. Methius when he had been excused, but the fact that he'd not been killed or shown any sign of distrust hinted to him that perhaps, he hadn't had his cover blown. Maybe Sephiroth still intended to seek his help.
He parked his car in it's usual spot, and once more, a small black object was nonchalantly dropped from his hand and kicked beneath the vehicle before he went to his apartment.
Within minutes, someone appeared out of the darkness and reached beneath the car, pulling forth the black plastic object. The man inspected it, seeing that it was little more than a film case. He opened it and pulled out the piece of paper within it.
V .V. c S. S. R alv. D cvr m/b blwn. J, Seph, nos D I.D. Sspct hl infm Dr. M.
The Shinra spy smiled to himself, and put the message back into the case. It was exactly what ASRIO needed to be told, and now Derek's loyalties were on the table.He reached down and placed the drop back where he'd found it.
---------
Reno's phone rang in the middle of the night. This was no big deal for him, though. His sleep since Vincent's death had been restless to say the least, and the call came in at a time when he was sitting up in bed, wide-awake.
He answered. "What?"
"It's Amy," came the voice from the other end of the line.
Reno threw his legs over the edge of the bed and leaned forward. He was bracing himself, figuring that any news to come from Derek's handler at this point would be bad. "Let's have it."
"Derek made another drop tonight, Reno."
This was what he figured. "And?"
"I'm going to read it. 'Vincent Valentine and Spencer Sharday are alive. My cover may be blown. Jaras, now Sephiroth, knows who I am. I suspect he'll tell Dr. Methius'." She then pulled out her lighter and ignited the paper, having delivered the message.
Reno was absolutely silent and didn't dare move. It was as though his heart had even quit beating.
"Sir?" Amy asked, having expected some sort of reaction.
"Okay… uh, we'll have Derek picked up tomorrow night. I… I need to go." Reno flipped his phone closed and let it fall to the floor. He had seen Vincent die. There was no way that the wounds he had sustained couldn't have been fatal. Part of him wanted to believe the information he'd just been given and to turn right around and tell Angel and then call Tifa, but he wouldn't. Until Vincent Valentine was standing in front of him, alive and in the flesh, he wouldn't say a word. Having his wife and Tifa mourn Vincent once was bad enough, but if he gave them this news and then it proved wrong, he couldn't force them to mourn him twice. For now, they were better off not hearing this.
Angel rolled over and faced him. "Who was that?"
"Nobody," Reno sighed. He hated lying to her. "I just need to have Derek taken out of Junon, that's all."
She could tell that something was amiss. "Reno?"
He got back beneath the sheets and put his arms around her. "It's nothing, babe. Go to sleep."