DISCLAIMER: .:clings to Cid's ankles:. Mine. Yes. Mine. (Yeah right, I wish.)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This first came to mind when I saw scans of Lucrecia from DoC and thought it was Shera because of the hair and the lab coat. When I got corrected, I started wondering if possibly Vincent saw some similarities as well... And this little ficlet was born. I really do believe that he's got some (or several) unresolved issues about not being able to protect her, so seeing Cid and his situation probably just hits all the annoyance buttons in his head (though I do love their friendship).

Anyway, I've been picking at this for awhile, because some of the wording bugs me, but I can't figure out how to fix it and it's starting to get on my nerves. So expect some minor revisions at some point in the future, just to satisfy my OC need to have the words just so.

And Nagia, here's your scene with Vincent and the Highwind. Your turn!

Set right after Cloud makes his speech at the end and asks them to decide what they're fighting for. Rated solely for Cid's language.

(Soundtrack: "Best I Ever Had," by Vertical Horizon)

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I know why I'm fighting. I'm fighting to save the planet, and that's that. But besides that, there's something personal, too... A very personal memory that I have. What about you all?" The young man's strangely iridescent eyes met each of his companions' as he issued them his challenge, his reason for making such an uncharacteristically long speech. "I want all of you to find that something within yourselves. If you don't find it, then that's okay, too. You can't fight without a reason, right?" He paused, folding his arms and letting his too-intense gaze drop. "So, I won't hold it against you if you don't come back."

The silence that met the end of his speech was heavier than anyone could remember, and they'd never been a group for easy pauses. But this was different – this was the end of the world they were dealing with. What their leader had just asked of them… was impossible to decide. None of them could honestly say with complete certainty that they would return.

Slowly, the group broke up, not speaking, instead only nodding, lashing a tail, or simply vanishing as each was wont to do. For one Vincent Valentine, there was no hurry; he had nowhere to return to. His home, his family… his job, friends… all thirty years in the past, while he looked barely a day older. He more than anyone had nothing to lose by returning to this mission… So why was he finding it so hard to picture himself coming back if he actually managed to leave?

What he hadn't expected in his musings was company, and to be fair the company hadn't come searching for him. As he opened the door to the deck of the Highwind, he caught a glimpse of the ninja girl disappearing over the railing, skipping the ladder entirely to jump to the ground below them and race off to the west. There was no sign of Red XIII or Barret, but there against the railing was their erstwhile captain. And he showed no signs of moving.

Cid Highwind flicked his cigarette butt over his namesake's railing and lit another one within three seconds, tucking the box of matches back in his coat pocket and taking a long drag before speaking. "So what th' hell are you still doin' here?" He didn't turn to look at the taller man.

"I could ask you the same question." It was strange, considering how different they were, that the two of them could talk – perhaps even be friends – but maybe their differences were what made it possible. Vincent knew he usually felt looser, at least, in the loudmouthed pilot's presence, something that he hadn't felt much even when he'd been "normal."

The blond man shrugged as Vincent came up to join him in leaning on the railing. "Like I said, Meteor's gonna kill us all anyway, Sephiroth or no. Figure it's better t'try and get the bastard outta the way fer her gift t'work, ya know?" Cid flicked his cigarette again, knocking off a long column of ash. "Not like I got much back there anyway."

"…Excuse me, but what did you just say?" Vincent asked, looking at his friend and actually struggling to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

"I ain't got much t'say goodbye to, and you know that's what the kid meant." Cid jerked his head, cigarette in his teeth, in the direction of the cockpit to indicate the "kid" who still hadn't emerged. "Or at least parta what he meant. Rocket's gone, crew's all here, I've been in space – got nothin' left t'regret or say goodbye to."

It was impossible for him to be hearing this. He'd been there, he'd been to that town before the rocket launch, he'd spoken – reluctantly, yes, but he had spoken – with the people there. Good, commonsensical people who called a wrench a wrench and didn't try to make things different than what they were because they didn't need to be. People he himself wouldn't mind spending more time around, since their casual bluntness would be a refreshing change from Shin-Ra double talk. Engineers, thinking in logic and yeses and nos and still willing to hope for that dream to come true. Mechanics, covered in grime and oil and still managing to see the beauty in a broken wheel.

Scientists, who made that entire town happen.

How could he not want to see it again?

"I can't believe that, Cid."

"Huh?" his friend asked, looking at him for the first time in their conversation.

"The town… your home. You've lived with those people since before the launch failed. What about them?"

The pilot shrugged. "What about 'em?"

"Cid." Vincent's voice was uncharacteristically emphatic and the other man nearly jumped when a golden claw landed on his shoulder and pulled him around to face the dark-haired man head-on. "You have a life there. You have more of a life there than I ever had anywhere, and you say you're not going to go back and see them once more?"

"What's it gonna matter, Vincent, huh?" Cid demanded, shaking off the claw and throwing the now-finished cigarette butt over the side, kicking the railing's supports a little. "You heard what the kid said. You heard what I said. If we go back, ain't none of us comin' back here. You saw their faces just as well as I did. It's gonna be Spike and the girl to face down that bastard Sephiroth, because we're all gonna get cold feet and wanna stay where we go. So I'm stayin', so at least it's three of us." The disgruntled pilot turned back to the railing, leaning on it once more. "'Sides, Spike damages my airship and I'm gonna have his intestines for a belt. Can't leave my girl in his hands."

Vincent didn't respond for several moments. Cid pulled out yet another cigarette – he seemed to have a never-ending supply of them – and smoked it halfway down, apparently ruminating on what he'd said, before his friend spoke up again. "What about the girl you left at home?"

He'd never thought he'd see the day when Cid Highwind would lose one of his precious cancer sticks, but apparently the day had come. The small white cylinder tumbled through the air below them, vanishing quickly from sight. "What in th'hell?"

"You know what I mean." Images flashed through Vincent's mind, of a cluttered house filled with a broken-down car and greasy mechanical parts, a kitchen floor that needed replacing, a neatly kept backyard where an old propeller-driven plane had once rested. "It's not just the town, is it?" Cid's people were hardy; they could take care of themselves if anyone could. But Cid hadn't been taking care of himself for years. The pilot didn't look at him, as if determined to avoid the subject. "Why are you afraid of seeing her again?"

Cid snorted, loudly, but Vincent knew him well enough to know that the action was simply a cover – though whether for himself or for the pilot, he couldn't tell. "You gotta be smokin' somethin' stronger'n me, Vin. I'm not afraid."

"Then why won't you go back?" he demanded.

No response.

"Why, Cid?" The cloaked man wasn't going to leave this alone. And he was much more patiently stubborn than the chain-smoking pilot.

He didn't have long to wait. With a final grumble under his breath that sounded like it contained too many curses to count, Cid slumped forward a little, gripping the railing in both gloved hands. "How can I go back? You saw what I fuckin' did to her."

"I saw you apologize for what you did to her." If awkwardly, he added in his head. "And I saw her forgive you."

"Yeah, forgive me." Cid's voice held an unusual amount of bitterness. Regret simply was not a Cid Highwind emotion; he tended to barrel through life at top speed and to hell with the consequences. But now, it seemed, finding out the major disappointment in his life had actually saved his life had been a hard pill to swallow, one that had gotten stuck in his throat and refused to budge. Cid swallowed a little, as if trying to clear the pill away, before speaking again. "You saw me before I ran off with you all on the Bronco. I fuckin' did that to her every day for six fuckin' years, man. How can she forgive me just like that? If I walk in that door, there's gonna be a goddamn shotgun to my head, and believe me, she knows how to use it."

"How do any of us forgive you for calling us names and cursing at us all day long? It's just the way you are. I'm sure she knows you better than we do, as well."

"How in the fuckin' hell can you be so sure of any of this, Vin?" he asked, almost tiredly.

The gunman fell silent for a moment as yet more images came to mind. His own memory of brown hair and brown eyes… Not the same as Cid's. Even from an unbiased viewpoint, his own girl, though never his, was prettier. Cid's was "cute," nothing entirely exceptional, but she exuded a warm personality and unabashed intelligence and had to have a rock-hard core to have put up with the Captain all these years. Cid didn't know what he had. Vincent did, and he was going to make sure that Cid was "educated."

So he reached inside his cloak and pulled out Death Penalty, aiming it directly at Cid's temple and making the pilot choke.

"What the fuckin' hell-"

"You said this is what would happen to you if you returned. This is what's going to happen to you if you stay. Do you really want to wait for twenty-four hours with me aiming at you?" Vincent's tone was just as neutral as ever, but he was fairly sure the rather large barrel of the gun was getting his point across for him.

"You- You fuckin' bastard, you can't-"

"Watch me." Vincent lifted the gun, taking aim directly at one of the Highwind's propellers. "Though considering how hard your head is, this might be the better target."

"NO!" Cid positively screamed, jumping in front of the gun. He'd known that would happen; Cid was more protective of his airship than his own life. "I'll go, I'll fuckin' go! Just don't shoot!"

"Fine." He lowered Death Penalty, making sure to give his friend the frostiest look he knew as he did so. "I never had the chance to have the life you do. I won't let you throw it away because you're afraid of mistakes you've already owned up to. Go make your peace with her, and with all of them, and come back to us when you can."

For a moment, it seemed that Cid was going to once again protest. But, surprisingly, he simply nodded after hesitating and strode across the deck to the hull of the airship. Yanking open the door with a crash, the captain leaned in and bellowed at the top of his lungs. "OI! All of you bastards, GO HOME!" Duties to his crew completed in his own personal style, Cid turned and came back to where Vincent still waited by the railing. Opening his mouth as if to say something, he once again hesitated; then he simply reached out and clasped Vincent's shoulder through the cape before nodding and swinging himself over the side of the airship.

Vincent watched him descend the ladder and turn west, unconsciously following the steps the ninja had taken, until he felt several presences behind him. Turning, he saw the majority of the ship's crew had gathered just outside the door and were watching their captain run off to whatever future he could cobble together – but none of them were making a move to leave.

Vincent hid a frown behind his cape. These were innocents; they didn't need to be in the middle of their battle. Several of them had heard all of the talk that had passed in the cockpit and knew exactly how dangerous this was going to be. Why weren't they going? "Aren't you going to follow orders?"

The one he recognized as their usual pilot turned to him with a brief, almost informal salute. "We already are, sir. This is our home."

They'd decided for themselves, then. Giving them a brief nod, Vincent turned and climbed easily onto the ladder, descending at a steady pace. He'd been reminded that he, too, had a place to visit – if only to make sure that it remained undisturbed from the ravages of time, man, or insane genetic experiment. He hadn't been able to have the life he wanted… But he was going to make sure that others could.