What's in this chapter? Let's see...more of Cid being slightly creepy and very corny, and some Vincent angst, as usual. Oh, and fluff. Get out yer cavity-preventing toothpaste!

Vincent leaned wearily on the doorframe, the knowledge of temporary safety suddenly making his limbs weigh an easy ton. There were thundering footsteps and squeals of joy as mother and children were tearfully reunited, and they were greeted by their friends as well. Cid collapsed into Aerith's concerned arms, and Vincent leaned heavily against Tseng saying, "It is not mine," when his second looked concernedly at the blood staining his shirt. "Mr. Highwind needs some medical attention, would you be willing to help him? I-I need to use the restroom."

As Tseng nodded, and turned to help Aerith ease Cid down onto the couch, Vincent stumbled into the bathroom, and locked the door behind him. Now that it was finally over, the reality of what he had done, which he had distanced from himself at the time, came crashing back down onto his shoulders and he fell to his knees at the toilet, retching repeatedly. When he had exhausted his stomach, he rested a moment, leaning against the wall and fumbled with is gauntlet, unbuckling it to slide it off of his arm. He raised shaking hands to his face and scrubbed it firmly before he dragged himself to his feet, and staggered over to the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror, his messy, tangled hair, half-obscuring his face, the drying blood on his shirt and vest, his pale and haggard face and sunken, exhausted red eyes.

He turned on the water, and while he waited for it to grow hot, he pulled off his gloves and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. When the water reached the desired temperature he began to soap his hands and arms. He had to get the blood off. He scrubbed and washed and re-scrubbed until his hands were raw and painful, and still he could not remove the blood. With a hoarse sob he began the process all over again…he had to keep trying, it just had to come off eventually, if he just scrubbed hard enough.

With a sigh at the closed door, and the water that had been running continuously for the last twenty minutes, Tseng finished sewing up Cid's shoulder while Aerith clucked disapprovingly that Cid did not take good enough care of himself. Tseng grinned and finally got the woman to go and do something productive in the form of making them all some hot tea to help settle the still-raw nerves. He knew that Elena and the children's presence would make Vincent uncomfortable when he finally rejoined them, so he shooed them back to their apartment, telling Elena to call if she needed anything, and the ensuing silence was some of most blissful in Tseng's recent memory. "You are a lucky man, Mr. Highwind," he admitted softly as he bit the thread after the last suture knot. "Both for having such a complete medical kit in your bathroom, and for the location of this wound. Just a few inches lower and to the right, and you would not have survived."

A few minutes of continuous, "Hey, watch where yer jabbin' that thing!" and "Ow, dammit!" quickly faded as Cid realized he did not need to affect any false personality in his present company. It was a refreshing realization, and he relaxed and let Tseng do his job. Near the end, when Tseng made his comments about how easy it would have been for Cid to die, Cid asked, "Is he gonna be okay?" as he jerked his head toward the bathroom door. "I know he hates…he hates 'imself so much, an' 'e just won't listen to me when I try t'point out how much there is left t'love. He locks 'imself b'hind so many doors I can't even get to 'im, but I think fer a minute t'day, fer just a minute, I almost had 'im." Cid looked up into Tseng's face, trying to see if he could read anything in those dark eyes and finding nothing but traces of warmth that confused him all over again. "An' you, y're just as bad as he is," Cid grumped, not wanting to be rude, but wanting Aerith to hurry up with that tea.

She did almost as soon as the thought occurred to him, and Cid gratefully took the proffered cup, smiling at Aerith as she sat.

"Thanks fer stayin' with th'kids, both o' ya. Was a damned good thing we went lookin' for 'er," Cid said, and then turned concernedly to Tseng again. "I owe 'im so much now. All o' ya, really, but Vincent most of all." And where was Vincent? Locked away from him, focusing on the negative aspects of the day. "D'you…d'ya think it'd be all right if I went in after 'im, or is it better t'wait 'til 'e's done?" he asked, then shook his head. "Never mind. I ain't askin' nobody anymore." Standing a bit shakily and placing his cup on the table, Cid went to the bathroom, knocked on the door, and demanded, "Let me in, Vincent."

Tseng had grinned when the cop wasn't looking when the man began snapping at him. Vincent was right, he did whine. But it was far from annoying; rather it was almost childlike and endearing. He had murmured, "You complain much." That had earned him a glare that actually threatened to make him chuckle, but was wise and held it in. He also thought that Highwind was a good match for his friend. Cid was everything that Vincent was not, and he figured the best hope of getting his friend back was through this man. He patted Cid companionably on the shoulder, and was about to speak when the cop got up, and went to the bathroom door, demanding to be let in. A good match, until he does something stupid, Tseng thought wryly. But he knew that Highwind's heart was in the right place.

With a wince, he stood and followed, resting his hand upon the cop's arm he said softly, "He will be all right, just give him a minute." Or several, Tseng thought sadly, then gently steered Cid into the guest bedroom, and half-shut the door to give them some privacy. He leaned against the wall, and studied Highwind a moment before continuing quietly, "He's always been like that. He hates to kill, Mr. Highwind, and the fact that he did today, in the manner that he did, says to me that he was very passionate about the reason behind it. We try to protect him -Reno, Rude, myself, and even Verdot- from having to do it, but sometimes it is inevitable, and you see the result of that now. In turn, he protects us." He pushed off the door, to stand closer to Cid. "He also hates to be reminded that he did." He shook his head when Cid opened his mouth to speak. "Please, let me finish. I am not saying entirely discount that he took a life today. What I am saying is this: do not make more of it than needs be. I made that mistake once, and will not do so again. I would hate to see you make the same one when I could prevent it. He did what he had to do, and you can do him the biggest favor by accepting that, and letting it go." Tseng stepped up to the door and opened it, pausing to say over his shoulder, "I really hope you did reach him today, Mr. Highwind."

He left the room then, not knowing if Cid followed or not, and he did not really care. Rather what had his alarmed attention at the moment was Vincent, who had finally come out of the bathroom, and was standing in the doorway to the living room clutching a bloody hand towel and looking sheepish.

"I am sorry, Mr. Highwind, I will replace your towel." Vincent said, a hint of color having turned his cheeks a light shade of rose.

"What have you done?" Tseng breathed and strode purposefully over to Vincent to take the man's hands into his own. He plucked the hand towel out Vincent's grip and stared, horrified, down at his boss's raw and bloody hands. "You've never done that before. What were you thinking?" He glared at Vincent, which only got him a nasty glare in return.

"I said I was sorry, and I do not believe that I need to answer to you for everything, Tseng." Vincent snapped, pulling his hands back and fisting one around the towel. "I will be-"

"Fine, yes yes, I know." Tseng snapped back, and then gestured forcefully at Vincent's hands. "But this is going too far." He stopped speaking when he got his first good, unworried look at Vincent's worn and haggard face. "Look, you're exhausted. Stay here and rest and-"

"I am most certainly not staying here!" Vincent's response was immediate, and vehement. "If ShinRa finds out I have not been at the Tower this entire weekend…dear gods, if he finds out where I have been today, then quite literally, our world will explode, Tseng." Vincent said, already pale face losing the rest of its color as the man sat shakily down on the edge of the couch. "You have no idea what we discovered today. There is so much that has to be done."

"And you will give me a full briefing on Monday so that we can begin preparing to do them." Tseng said. Silencing anything further from Vincent with a sharp hand gesture, he squatted down in front of his boss. "Mr. ShinRa knows you frequently oversee 'business' on weekends, many times never leaving the car. I've been in contact with Reno and had him, Rude and Verdot out on "jobs" today, so no one is in the Tower right now, until I return. I can handle Mr. ShinRa. Trust us to cover for you, Vincent. Stay here, and rest."

"No, you cannot 'handle' ShinRa, Tseng." Vincent moaned softly. "I have to be there…be there to take the p-" He caught himself before he could say punishment, and Tseng visibly winced.

"How can he punish anyone, if we are all gone? It will not be the first time, Vincent. If you will not do it for you, then do it for me. I have never asked anything of you, but I will now if I have to. Stay here where you are safe, and trust us to keep things running for you." Tseng said in a whisper.

Too exhausted to fight anymore, Vincent just sighed and nodded. He looked so forlorn that upon reflex, Tseng reached up to touch him, but stopped when he saw Vincent cringe. It broke his heart. He sighed and stood back up. Tugging the wrinkles out of his jacket, he shot a meaningful look at the cop before he said professionally. "I will have my phone on me if you need anything. Ms. Gainsborough, may I offer you a ride home?"

Only after Aerith agreed to allow Tseng to bring her home and bid goodbye to the other men did Cid belatedly reply, "I got enough t'go around," in regards to the towel. "But don't do that anymore. It hurts me so bad," he said softly, taking the ruined towel and dropping it into the garbage can just inside the kitchen. He returned to the living room and took his place on the couch a few feet away from Vincent. "Y'do owe me a shirt, though," he said, grinning and pointing to the one Vincent had shredded earlier.

Vincent snorted softly. "Undershirts are easy enough to come by, fortunately." He murmured, leaning back into the couch cushions, and staring at two wispy cobwebs in a corner. Now that it was all over, the shock of discovery, the chase, the return…now that they were alone, he was just…worn out.

"Long-ass day, t'day was," Cid said easily. He didn't think now was the time to thank Vincent for accompanying him, or to mention the life-debt Vincent had every right to claim, but he didn't know what else to talk about. "That Rhapsodos is somethin' else. I c'n see why Lazard c'mplains so much about 'im. Dramatic little bastard, ain't 'e?"

Vincent laughed sourly. "You have no idea. Why is Deusericus complaining to you about Rhapsodos, anyway?" He couldn't quite hide the curiosity in his voice, as he rolled his head to peer at the cop questioningly.

"Same reason Scarlet bitches t'me 'bout you, I reckon. An' o' course, I don't work fer him an' he shouldn't be bringin' 'is work outside th'way 'e does, but some o' them stories're just so goddamned funny he's gotta tell somebody. 'Course, m'so tired now I can't think o' none, but…" Cid shrugged and looked back at Vincent, smiling warmly. "Thank ya, Vincent."

"You are welcome." Vincent returned; actually appreciating his work being acknowledged, for once. "I enjoyed working with you, Cid. But I think we need to work on your unenviable ability at being a target. Does terrible things to a man's nerves. Oh, and exercising a bit more caution when entering rooms, would be beneficial to your lifespan as well." He chuckled, a smile softening his features.

Cid laughed out loud, Vincent's smile doing wonderful things for his heart, which had so recently been breaking for the same man. "Yeah, I imagine so. Caution's a tricky thing, though. C'n getcha in a lot o' trouble if y'don't know how t'use it right." His eyes softened further as he backtracked to Vincent's first suggestion. "I don't mind bein' a target if…I was so scared after, Vincent, thinkin' it coulda been you 'stead o' me. So if me makin' a good target keeps 'em away from you, then I don't mind one little bit."

"Ah, but I do." Vincent said, shifting to turn a little more towards Cid. "What kind of a partner would I be, if I go around getting you shot all of the time?" He sighed softly. "We are in this deep together, my friend. Regardless of what we were before, we are partners now. The tricky part now is how to handle the situation now that we know what kinds of ideas our 'superiors' are thinking up for us."

This made Cid grin for some reason; he had imagined himself covered in something resembling a turtle's shell that would protect him but still let him look vulnerable. Now, if that'd just work… He was so tired of thinking coherently, but Vincent had finally gotten to the real problem. "I don't know what t'think about that, much less what t'do about it," he said, smile fading. "All I c'n see t'do is go along with it as long's we hafta, an' as soon as we c'n get you out, we do, an' we…" he stopped to snort at himself. "We what? Ride off inta th'sunset? Real fuckin' likely in a place like this." He reached for Vincent's shoulder and squeezed it lightly, wanting to take his hand but afraid of hurting the tender flesh there, "But I sure as hell wouldn't mind," he whispered, more to himself than to Vincent.

"A pretty dream, Highwind." Vincent murmured, looking away. "But my 'out' is a little more complicated than wrangling a couple of chocobos out through traffic. Can you still safely get me the mako I need? It will have to be regularly, every week without fail."

"Yeah, I can. Every week now? I'll let 'er know. I'd save up any extras, 'cause th'baby's due soon. We'll get Aer in soon as possible –he's got 'er lined up as a substitute fer anybody out, likes havin' a pretty girl around, th'pervert- but that might take two, three weeks, an' there won't be nothin' comin' in durin' that time." He sighed sadly then and said, "I know it's complicated. Too complicated. Everything's too fuckin' complicated!" A dry sob escaped him before he even realized it was coming, and he shook his head to clear away any that might follow it. "Can we hold each other, Vincent? I needa be close t'you right now."

He had nodded when he heard that Highwind could get him the mako. It was a more tenuous arrangement than he would have preferred, but he thought he could work with that. He needed to separate from ShinRa, permanently. If he could take Rufus out of the equation, it would buy them some time as Rhapsodos regrouped. It would do nothing to alleviate the already-present suspicion that Scarlet and Rhapsodos, even Azul, had of him. But that could not be helped. He needed to contact the Syndicate and find out what they knew of Azul's activities, and he wondered why he hadn't seen any representatives there from the Kisaragi clan, so likewise they had to be notified as well. His thoughts were brought to a screeching halt by Highwind's next request. He eyed Cid nervously. "What-what do you mean?" he asked stupidly. The thought of being restrained, even in a loose pair of arms, terrified him.

Cid didn't like the look on Vincent's face. He'd never been bothered in this way by something so simple before, and it was such a stretch from his attitude earlier in the day. "Hold me," Cid clarified. "Let me be close to ya as long's I can. If it helps…if you can, Vincent, go back t'how y'felt this mornin', right after. Kiss me like y'wanted to then. I'll give m'self to ya if y'want, if that's better, but I need ya t'night. I need somethin' that says I'm yours, even if you ain't ready t'be mine. If we can't make love yet, then just lay with me an' don't make me leave ya." The more he talked, the more he imagined, the more Cid felt that tonight would, for them, either be a major turning point or just yet another night he would look back and rue for not putting its potential to use. "It's my turn t'ask, Vincent. Stay with me?"

Vincent had difficulty swallowing. He remembered how he had reacted to Cid getting shot, but recalling that feeling was not as simple as just hitting a switch. To be honest, he didn't even know if he could feel that way again. He looked down at his raw hands, hands that were now trembling slightly. He was nervous, scared, his body encompassed by a cold chill that he had no name for. But likewise he found that he could not turn away the pleading look in Highwind's eyes. He hated being torn when faced with making a decision. So he just went on impulse, and hoped that he would not regret it. "All right," he said softly, hesitantly. "Where do you-" he cleared his throat loudly, "where do you want me?"

Cid's eyes widened; he had been expecting Vincent to leave anyway, despite Tseng's warning and Cid's request. He shuddered minutely. An' don't ask a question like that… "Everywhere I am. Always," he whispered honestly, knowing that those words did no good in his current situation. He didn't know what to do for Vincent, how to make him more comfortable, but he knew what he wanted. "Better off in bed," he said quietly, "so if we fall asleep at least we don't wake up hurtin'." That said, Cid didn't want to move from where he was. He met Vincent's eyes and felt so much in that moment that he couldn't describe. He stood slowly and extended both his hands, then remembered that Vincent's were probably still very painful and did not need pressure put on them. Still, he couldn't turn his back on Vincent and expect the man to follow him. Instead, he gestured toward the bedroom and said, "After you," voice shaking as much as the smile he attempted.

Finding himself unable to meet Cid's eyes, Vincent stood and slowly made his way into the bedroom, jumping when Cid shut the door behind them. His gut was a hard knot of nerves, and his stomach felt mildly rebellious, but he held his ground, looking at the bed as though to touch it would cause him to be incinerated. With painful deliberation he shrugged out of his vest, but just couldn't bring himself to take off his shirt. He hoped Cid would understand, as he walked over and carefully arranged the pillows so that he could sit in a mostly upright position, comfortably. He carefully straightened the top comforter and toed off his boots, trying in vain to prolong the moment, before he no longer could. Sitting down on the bed, he took a deep, steadying breath and situated himself back against the pillows. When he was settled, he looked up at the blank face of the cop and held out his arms a little. "Like this?"

Cid nodded, chest clenching. What's th'matter, Vin? I don't know how t'help. He said nothing, just slid in beside Vincent and into his arms, sighing shakily but happily as he came to rest against Vincent's body. "Just like this." He wanted to put his arm about Vincent's waist, but felt it would not be welcomed at present. He turned his body instead so that he was leaning back against Vincent's chest, but his legs were sticking off the side of the bed, and he found that to be rather uncomfortable. No matter which way he bent them, he could not get them comfortable. He shifted once more, and found that if he let his legs rest parallel with Vincent's, everything was a little better. Cid tilted his head up to look at Vincent, but saw only the bottom of his chin. "Thank ya," he said again, to draw attention to himself, and hopefully earn a glance, if not a smile.

Vincent had expected Cid's weight and presence to be intimidating, trapping, but in actuality, he found it strangely comforting. He wrapped his arms around the cop, and held the man close, resting his head against Highwind's a little awkwardly, but surprising himself at finding that he craved the closeness. "Thank you, Cid," he breathed, tightening his hold briefly before loosening them again, but not removing his arms. "Thank you for everything." His back and shoulders slowly relaxed until the cop's weight pressed him pleasantly down into the pillows, and he let his eyes slowly drift down until he was staring lazily at the framed picture across the room from them.

"You're ever'thin'," Cid amended, snuggling deeper against Vincent and deciding that propriety be damned, he was going to be comfortable. He draped an arm and a leg over Vincent and rested his head fully against the solid chest beneath it. "I really- I really do love ya, Vincent. Do ya believe me yet?" Cid barely knew what he was saying anymore. He was so exhausted…and the day was hardly halfway over. They'd left so early this morning, and Cid had expected it to be nearly nightfall by the time all was done, but it was only mid-afternoon. Though he often found it difficult to fall asleep during daylight hours, his eyes were heavy and even his thoughts were slurring, and he knew he would be asleep within minutes. "M'sleepy," he announced, trying to warn Vincent to get comfortable, because he was going to be trapped where he was for quite some time.

Shifting to allow Cid to settle a little more comfortably on top of him, Vincent brought his hand up to begin slowly dragging his fingers though the soft blond hair. His thoughts held no real cohesion, and he murmured, "You should be, you have had a busy day: breaking down doors, scaling-" he broke off as he gave an enormous yawn, his jaw popping at the apex of it, before finishing in a mumble, "-fire escapes, crawling about rafters, and all around rescuing the damsel in distress." His eyes slid shut as he smiled to himself.

Cid gave a sleepy sound of content and relaxed into the petting. "Feels good…don' stop, 'kay?" he asked, and those were the last words he said apart from, "Yer jaw shouldn't pop like that. Ain't healthy," before falling asleep with a loud sigh.

Vincent would have answered, "So says the man with a hole in his shoulder," but he was already sound asleep.