Vincent's visit had affected Cloud more than he wanted to admit. He had remained sitting long after the other man had left, head in his hands, knuckles white. On far too many occasions Tifa had given him the same speech, with a different brand of pleading or sometimes mothering. Cloud didn't want to hear any of it. The cost of abandoning his friends seemed far less than knowing they were in danger because of him. There hadn't been trouble lately, or at all, not for a year, but Cloud knew, it was only time, before something new came along and tried to take everything away from him. That was what his life amounted to. The people he held dear were always taken away, always dying for him. It was a like a curse, some omniscient presence which haunted him. It was death. Cloud knew death too well, had been on the verge countless times only to be brought back from the threshold. He had seen its steely grip on the people he loved, his hero, his enemies, family… as familiar as it was, it also remained intangible, an enigma. What lay beyond death was a mystery that whispered relentlessly. In the shadows inside the church, the falling petals of Aeris' garden, the empty houses and broken remains of the slums. The paths the dead took; the invisible line that Cloud couldn't follow. Death called to Cloud, like a siren. If not for Zack, for the promise he had given, Cloud would already know the answers to death. Instead, he was left alone, wandering like a lost child as life blew past him in vibrant blurs. All he was, was a shattered legacy.

Long after Vincent left, Cloud made his way to the makeshift bed bedside the flowers, resting the Buster Sword beside him. He lit the lamp placed on his trunk, watching with slight warmth as the light spread faintly around the room, illuminating a small circle around him while the roof and walls remained in shadow. Cloud loved the church most at this time, when the wreckage couldn't be seen. It appeared as it may once have been, when it was first built, whole and inviting.

With slow movements he removed his shoes, placing them beside him as reached for the sleeve of his shirt. His arm twinged slightly as he inspected it, and Cloud became mesmerised by the unusual feeling as his fingers ran lightly over the scarred flesh. It had began as a simple bruise, which was reason enough for confusion, as his mako ridden body was more the capable of recovering from broken blood vessels. Weeks later the bruise had changed to mimic scar tissue, growly slowly in size. Cloud marvelled at the fact that he could have lasting damage at all, not to mention for no apparent reason. In the back of his mind a small voice was telling him to seek help, that sickness shouldn't be appreciated, that he needed to be healthy. A larger voice, the pained, lonely voice that dominated most of Cloud's thoughts hinted at the possibility of disease; that he was dying. He could just let it continue, until it was too late. He wouldn't outright admit it, but a large part of him toyed with the idea of death. He would often fall asleep amongst those thoughts, his dreams becoming surreal and dark and suggestive. The strange markings had become a comfort at times, but at others, it scared him. He wasn't sure he could submit to death, but the choice was there, a promise he hid underneath his sleeve.

***

It was a bad day. Worse than normal Cloud observed, as he kicked out the stand on the Fenrir, untying the straps that restrained the current delivery. A bad day consisted of guilt, the constant tide of thoughts about the people he had betrayed, had killed, and failed. A worse than normal day was when he lost control of his memory, which still erupted every now and again with vivid glimpses of something forgotten. He could recall almost all of his life, his real life, but on occasion his head seemed to want to reorder things, or take inventory, or just inflict more emotional pain as Cloud believed. Today, Zack's laughter was sounding in his head. The thick, charming melody had Cloud's mind fogging over. As soon as the delivery was made, he needed to get away. He needed to drive like a madmen and escape any chance of something else triggering him. The last thing he could handle was catching sight of some tall, muscle bound youth with dark hair. He grunted as he shifted the box in his arms, pushing the door open with his shoulder and entering the building. The client was a civil service company, using the building as storage for various documents that had yet to be assorted, as well as a halfway house for ones that had been read, filed and waiting relocation. Cloud was under the impression that nobody was on receivable duty but as he dropped the box behind the front desk he was surprised to see another figure appear from the elevator, almost falling into the lobby.

He could see long tapering fingers struggling to hold the tower of boxes, a knee lifting to keep them in place before the man fell back, losing balance and crashing against a wall, remaining there in an effort to regroup. Cloud was sure he had heard a few muffled 'fucks' from behind the boxes –and soon after- saw a swish of a red pony tail as the man moved his head erratically, using his nose to edge a poster back into its holder. Reno.

It had been a year since everything. Cloud had on the occasion caught glimpses of the remaining ShinRa employees but both parties had kept to themselves. He hadn't wanted to see Reno and now he found himself backing towards to the exit. It wasn't a matter of forgiving, or even forgetting. Cloud simply could not bear to see a face from his old world. The microcosm of him and Zack. A few steps back and his hand gripped the handle of the door, at the same time it seemed Reno had lost the battle of balance, in an awkward slow motion the boxes lifted upwards before crashing everywhere, the contents spilling out with an "aw, fuck it, yo". Reno looked down at the mess of papers and folders, his face appearing somewhat disgusted, before realizing he had an audience.

"Cloud?"

Reno's face had shaped into his feminine form, eyes wide, his cheekbones emphasised as his jaw dropped in surprise.

"I was… leaving… I'll….I'm going"

"Hey wait… Cloud… don't run off man"

He bent to pick up the folders and paper, expecting Cloud to obey. Cloud found himself unbearably unsure of what he was doing. Leaving the building would take a simple second, but instead he found himself watching as Reno shuffled what appeared to be building plans. He crossed his arms, unsure of what to do, his body suddenly feeling disconnected from his mind. He felt displaced and he frowned as Reno stood up and smiled with that natural charisma he contained in excess.

"Every now 'n again we find more things that need reclaimin'. You know, the occasional form or file that should be ShinRa property. Was meant to pick these up months ago but…well" he shrugged and recollected the boxes.

When Cloud didn't respond Reno looked up again, a laugh about to escape from his lips

"You look like ya were gona sneak out" his lips lifted up on the sneak and he laughed as Cloud looked up towards the ceiling, unwilling to look at Reno.

"How'd ya know it was me?" Reno pressed on, unaffected by Cloud's standoffishness.

"Your hair… the pony tail…" he watched as Reno nodded, grabbing hold of the length and examining it, before tossing it back over his shoulder.

"Been thinking it was time to get rid of it-"

"No…" a well shaped eyebrow arched at him and Cloud frowned at himself. He hadn't meant to say it out loud. He felt overcome with confusion and he could taste a sadness seeping into his head. The air seemed to become suffocating and his hand gripped the door handle tighter.

Reno continued to look at him, his eyes boring into him as Cloud refused to return the gaze. Staring to the side, Cloud sighed.

"It's just, you always had it. Back then…" he drifted off.

The sadness was rolling in now, a fog that threatened to take him backwards, remind him of Zack… and SOLDIER.

"Times change man. Everything changes Cloud. You gotta accept it" Reno was searching Clouds face now, his own turning more and more into a display of concern.

Cloud lifted his eyes, looking at the Turk as his mind fogged over. He could see Reno, as he was years ago, the lanky form slightly behind Zack. His face caught in the sunlight as he brought a cigarette to his lips.

Returning to the present, his voiced cracked and his chest constricted.

"You think I don't know that? I just, I don't want things to change. But they do and... and…"

Reno grimaced, his hand reaching out to Cloud. His fingers -reaching closer- curved elegantly. He was reminded again, of a younger man, sixteen, and those same fingers sliding through his hair. His eyes had been brighter than, had gleamed like a predator as Cloud had whispered 'Zack's not here…'

"Cloud… I..."

Cloud ripped the door open, running onto the street as his reasoning suffocated. His mind completely lost in fog. Still running, he turned into a laneway, before sliding down the wall of a building. Everything was turning black, his head feeling heavy, and he welcomed the numbness, still tasting sadness and the slight smell of cigarettes.

***

Using the wall to stand, Cloud braced himself, waiting for the tremors to subside. He'd woken to find himself still in the laneway, feeling dazed and tired. As soon as he'd realised where he was his stomach had turned in on itself as a searing pain raced through his arm. Curling in on himself, he waited out the heaving feeling inside, closing his eyes despite the oncoming disorientation. Eventually the pain had left and on shaky legs he rose, panting heavily.

Walking back into the crowded streets, Cloud made his way back to the building, hoping Reno wouldn't still be there. Thankfully, he saw no signs of the Turk and his bike was waiting faithfully on the curb. Climbing onto the seat and adjusting his goggles, he paused. Ahead of him was a child, a boy of no more than five or six. He was clinging to a large, burly man, most likely his father. Their clothes were frayed and faded and the man's face seemed haggard, worn down with fatigue. He was in deep conversation with a woman whom appeared greatly concerned. She smiled warmly as the boy shyly hid behind his fathers' legs, the change in position allowing Cloud to see his neck.

From the shoulder, reaching high into his hair line, was dark, scarred flesh. Cloud unconsciously gripped his arm, staring at the boy in open shock.

Their conversation waved over him and he listened intently, readjusting his goggles and pretending not to stare.

"…about a month ago. His sister has it too. Not nearly as bad though"

The woman made a sympathetic noise, smiling at the boy as he peered around his fathers' legs.

"Nothing we can do about it either. Doctors won't tell us anything useful. I keep feeling like I have to do something, I'm at my wits end, you know? I just want them to get better…"

" I can definitely get my brother to take a look at it. But I'm sure he'll say the same, it's definitely Geostigma."

The boy shyly crept towards the woman now, tentatively and playfully pulling at her sleeve and she bent down to ruffle his hair, taking a closer inspection of his neck and face.

"Has he been having any nightmares? Any daylight visions? The symptoms are so varied. Some people are so ill, but other times, it's like it affects their mind." She bit her lip, looking over shoulder then turning back to give the man a hopeful smile.

"I'll take you to my brother. He'll know what to do"

Cloud watched them leave, starting up the Fenrir and screeching off in the direction of the church. The conversation repeated in his mind and he mused over it with a calm detachment, refusing to connect the little boy with himself. He had heard of Geostigma before, in passing, but this was the first time he had seen someone with it. Arriving at his destination, he shrugged off the conversation, it didn't matter if it appeared similar. It was just a co-incidence, same symptoms, but probably a different reason all together.

Stepping into the church he was immediately met with a sweeping cloak as Vincent pinned him against the wall. He struggled briefly, unwilling to use his full strength and already taxed from the previous occurrences. Vincent held him tightly, his elbow pressed against Cloud's chest, his knee bent into Cloud's thigh. Cloud turned his head to face him, blue orbs widening at the inferno in the other man's eyes. He was breathing shallowing, but the pressure on his chest was somehow comforting. It was so long since he had had physical contact and Vincent's assault reminded him of what it was like, to be so close to another body. The position was violent, but the light breaths fluttering onto his neck made it feel intensely intimate.

Vincent's face was as inert as always but Cloud could sense the anger radiating in waves.

"I was going to leave you to your own devices. I thought maybe you would come around in time…"

Even though the sound was so close, Cloud struggled to focus on the words. He could feel the vibrations through his chest as Vincent's deep voice resonated from his throat. At such closeness, Cloud could see the smooth porcelain skin of Vincent's neck, appearing less like skin and more like silk.

"…but there is no point in pretending, because we both know you need to be brought out of the toxic hole you've led yourself into…"

He barely registered the disapproving tone, preoccupied with the warmth emanating from the strong arm keeping him in place. Despite his…vampiric… appearance, Vincent reminded Cloud of fire, of heat. Those eyes that lit from within, the burning sensation as he held Cloud against the wall. He could smell a mixture of sweetness and something heavier, darker and intoxicating. It felt like forever since he had been this close to someone, to be able to smell them so strongly, feel the contours of their body. Their faces were so close, and his mouth tingled, jaw tightening as he wondered what Vincent tasted like.

"...before it's too late. You can't let your pain become your weakness…"

He lifted his arm, gripping Vincent's shoulder as he gave up on listening. Inching his face forward, he noted the shock in Vincent's eyes, the tiny fires seeming to explode as he brought their lips together. It was warm silk. The softest of lips, and Cloud pushed firm against them, not waiting for a response as his tongue slid between them. The heat was welcoming and seductive, their tongues meeting with a slick sinful sensation. In an instant Vincent shifted, his hands taking hold of Cloud's wrists and holding him hostage against the wall, a leg parting Cloud's as his tongue forced its way into his mouth. There was no rhythm, only a feral passion as their appendages fought, weaving with shameless abandoned. Cloud pushed his body up against Vincent, his hips lifting as they met with clashing teeth and needy tongues. He sucked Vincent in, massaging in a rapid and fierce display of lustful worship. Vincent titled his head for a deeper angle and a strand of hair escaped, brushing softly onto Clouds cheek. He wanted his hands to be free, he wanted more than anything to weave his hands through the silky hair, so dark and desirable, so similar to-

Cloud froze, his mouth still open. His body slumped against the wall so listlessly that Vincent's hands were the only thing still holding him up. He closed his eyes, unable to think, let alone understand the feeling rising in himself. Was it shame, fear…

Vincent had pulled back, face as motionless as always, not flushing or even out of breath. He waited, searching Cloud's face, looking for an answer.

Cloud felt his wrists being released, the pressure gone from his body. The warmth was fading, the scent with it. He could hear Vincent leaving, the steps measured, not loud, or hurried, betraying nothing.

Catching his breath he waited until the steps faded completely, before he made his way to the makeshift bed, collapsing on it. He closed his eyes, letting the darkness embrace him, allowing the comfort only feeling nothing could bring.