Sorry for the delay! I didn't have the time/energy to edit the new chapters we were turning out, and both Cal and I refuse to put them out unedited.
Staring out the window listlessly, Vincent was quiet as the sedan purred along while Tseng deftly navigated in and out of traffic. How had things come to this? How had he let them?
"What happened, Vincent," Tseng said. It was not a question, and did not leave him the option not to answer.
"I have done a great and terrible thing, my friend." Vincent said softly, miserably. When Tseng remained silent, Vincent forced himself to continue. "I hurt him. One of the last people in this rotten world that I would see hurt, and I did it. I have brought shame to what is left of my name…my home, my honor. There will be no redemption for this sin." He brought his arm up, propping it on the armrest and cradled his chin in his palm, fingers over his mouth.
"What did you do, Vincent," Tseng said softly, glancing back briefly in the rearview mirror.
"I broke his heart."
Tseng fell silent again. When he spoke next it was low, and Vincent had to strain a little to hear the man. "And did you have a reason to do that? Please tell me that you have not fallen so far as to be so dismissive with the feelings of others? Those whom you claim 'matter' to you?"
Vincent winced. Had he? It was a fair question. "He asks so much," Vincent breathed. "He asks things of me that I cannot give him, I dare not."
"What does he ask of you?"
"He asks for my favor, my…" Vincent broke off and swallowed hard. "Love," he finished, in a choked voice. "Though he has never outright asked me to declare it, the hints are there. He tells me he 'loves me', and I told him to let me go."
"That's unfair," Tseng said harshly. "What's so wrong with loving someone, Vincent? It is because he's a man? Or a cop? It is because of Lucrecia? What you've endured with Rufus?"
Vincent sat there, too stunned for words, as the color drained from his face and his mouth gaped slightly. What Tseng had just said hurt. Finally he found his voice, but it was breathless, as though he had been punched in the gut. "I can't believe you just said that to me. You had no right." His voice strengthened a little. "That was not…"
"Fair?" Tseng interrupted in a sneer. "Vincent, in case you haven't noticed, this world is not fair. What you did to Mr. Highwind was not fair. What Rufus does to you is not fair. And Lucrecia being taken from you is not fair. But we have to survive somehow. Take our pleasure where we can. If you are offered something as precious as love, a second time in one lifetime, you are a fool indeed to turn away from it." Tseng turned a corner, continuing as he straightened the wheel and accelerated. "Vincent, I look upon you like my brother, and to see you so miserable breaks what heart I have left. He's a man, so what. He's a cop, makes things more difficult, but if anyone can make it work, you can. Rufus?" Tseng snorted in disgust. "I can only hope you see sense before the man kills you. And Lucrecia? Do you think she would be happy seeing you like this? Do you think you dishonor her memory by feeling for another?"
"Why are you doing this to me?" Vincent asked pleadingly. "Tseng…I need your support, not your hostility."
In the mirror, Tseng's expression softened. "Forgive me, niisan, but you need to hear this. Stop trying to carry everyone else's burdens, and live a little. You've always had a noble heart, nothing will change that, but your nobility is hurting you."
"Nobility?" Vincent snorted. "Look at what I do, Tseng! Nobility has no place in my life…not anymore."
Tseng smiled serenely. "You say that now, but your actions continue to prove you wrong. Look, Vincent, now is not the time to discuss this. I only ask that you think about what I've said. Think very carefully, and do not discount the possibility of finding happiness again. It's not impossible."
Vincent did not reply as he continued looking out the car window. Tseng didn't understand. He didn't understand that if Vincent allowed himself to love Cid, then Cid…would die.
Later that day, after indulging himself a bit in the way of comfort food, Cid called Lazard, whom he knew to be currently at lunch. When Cid heard the phone pick up, he sighed heavily and said, "So I'm done for."
After a returning sigh, Lazard answered, "Well, you knew it was coming. What did you do to finally push her over the edge?"
"What? No, not her. Him. Not him, Vincent. I just…shit, I'm just done for! He made me realize so much without even tryin'. I don't care anymore. I don't care about makin' it t'the top, or cleanin' up the city, or any o' that. Fer one thing, it'll just never happen an' I'm tired o' holdin' empty dreams. Fer another…I c'd never be with him an' have those things, an' he's so much more important. 'Course I'll never have 'im anyway, but at least this way I ain't contradictin' m'self."
"Cid…I would love to listen to you tell me all about your bad day, but I have to be back in my office and very attentive to my next visitor in ten minutes. Can I get the short of it rather than the long?"
"Y'just got it. I ain't headed fer the top, Lazard, an' I ain't gonna try anymore. I'm gonna get out, an' I'm gonna do somethin' else with m'life, somewhere else, if I c'n get 'im t'come with me."
Slowly, Lazard shook his head. "It feels good, doesn't it?"
"Wha?"
"Being in love. It feels wonderful."
"I…I imagine it feels much better when th'one you love doesn't walk away from ya." Cid's words were quiet, and the reality of what had happened today crashed in on him again. Vincent's apology had been permanent, not temporary, and he would never love Cid, never want to be with him. Wasn't he a fool for thinking it could be so in the first place? "Look, I gotta go. Gonna go inta work an' maybe give m'notice."
"Cid-" Lazard started, but was cut off when Cid hung up abruptly.
Cid set the phone on the table and returned to his curled position on the couch. Tomorrow. He would go in tomorrow. Today, he would clean up this place, then go lie in bed for a while where he could still smell Vincent and the scent of their kitchen activities from the night before. He would allow himself this one day to remember and mourn what might have been….tomorrow, he would start working again to make "what might have been" a reality.
"What did you want to talk to me about, sir?" Tseng asked, closing the door after him as he and Vincent entered Vincent's spacious office. The remainder of the ride back to the Tower had been in silence, and now that they were back in his office, Vincent felt the press of a more serious issue come crashing back down.
"While Cid and I were looking for Elena, we tracked her abduction to a warehouse," Vincent began, turning around to lean back against his heavy desk.
Tseng nodded. "And how does this qualify as 'serious', sir?"
"It's one of mine," Vincent said, and nodded when Tseng's expression grew concerned. "It gets worse." He held up two fingers. "Two words: Genesis Rhapsodos." Tseng groaned and sat down in one of the chairs in front of Vincent's desk. "Yeah. But that's not the best part." He pushed off of the desk to walk around it and sit down in his own chair. "When Cid and I got there we noticed vehicles parked outside, and Rufus's was one of them, along with Scarlet and Rhapsodos."
"This is not good news, Vincent," Tseng said wearily.
"No, no it's not. But I say again…it gets worse." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. Folding his hands upon his stomach he arched an eyebrow. "Naturally, we could not just walk in through the front door, so we went around the side; you know, the one that has that brick half wall adjoining it? I broke into my own damned warehouse." Vincent snorted at that. "We crawled along the steel rafters and came across their little 'meeting'. It was Genesis, Scarlet, Rufus…and Azul."
"The Cerulean?" Tseng said in disbelief. "From the Syndicate?"
"The very same," Vincent confirmed, twisting a little in his swiveled chair. "I didn't know he was there until about half-way through what we heard of their meeting. I think he was mostly content to try and pit them against each other. The man's sick like that, from what I know of him, and then takes the side of the winner. But it disturbs me that he would associate with Rhapsodos, especially when he dislikes ShinRa so much. They were discussing assassinating the President…"
"Of Midgar?" Tseng said, shocked.
"…And then blaming the assassination on myself and Highwind."
"Like that would ever work," Tseng snorted, crossing his arms.
"It would if they had the authorities in their pocket. I have no doubt that Genesis has the upper plate in his, all he would need is Scarlet, and Rufus has her. But I cannot shake the suspicion that Genesis wants Rufus for something else…something that has to do with me personally." Vincent became silent, frowning in thought.
Tseng finally broke through his reverie with, "Well, whatever that is can wait. We need to alert Weiss and Nero to Azul's little betrayal. I imagine they won't be too pleased."
"You would be correct. Of course we run the risk that they sent Azul on purpose, but I'm skeptical with that seeing as Weiss and Nero trust Genesis about much as I love Rufus." Vincent spat softly. "So we call a meeting. Have Reno take a chopper to Modeoheim and pick them up. We'll meet in Healin, seeing as they won't feel comfortable meeting in Midgar."
"But why in person, sir?" Tseng said in confusion.
"Because I don't trust a video conference, nor one made over the phone. They'll appreciate the inconvenience when I tell them what I've told you." Vincent said, rubbing his face. "And I need your complete discretion with this, Tseng."
Tseng nodded. "And the Kisaragis?"
"There's no need to bring them into this if I can help it. This doesn't concern them as of yet, and if we can resolve this without involving them, all the better. Yuffie tends to get rather…"
"Enthusiastic?" Tseng said wryly.
"You might say that." Vincent said rolling his eyes. "But as it is, I would rather avoid said self-proclaimed 'ninja', at all costs."
"I couldn't agree with you more, sir."
Cid's last task for the day had been to call Aerith for some company. The "tidying up" had taken very little time, as it had been clean before he'd started cleaning, so it was not yet dark when he dialed her number. He was disappointed, but not altogether surprised, when he got only the answering machine of her home number. If she was out, he wouldn't trouble her with this. She would hear about it soon enough; he left a message, hoping she wouldn't rush to his apartment the second she got it, as she often tended to do. "Hey, Aer, s'me. I just wanted t'let y'know I'm prob'ly takin' a permanent vacation from work pretty soon. Tired of it, an' I don't have th'energy t'care anymore about what I used t'care about so much. You saw; I done let m'self fall. An' even if he don't think th'same way, he's all I c'n care about now, an' it comes down t'pickin' between him an' my old dreams or goin' on with both an' puttin' us in danger. An' hell, we'll be in enough danger w'just his position, won't we? So I'm pickin' him, an' I'll make it somewhere else. I dunno when I'll have time t'see ya, but know y're always welcome wherever I am."
That night, Vincent shut himself in his quarters and proceeded to dump the contents of his duffel onto his bed. Carefully placing the gauntlet and Quicksilver on his dresser, he returned to the bed to sigh down at his ruined clothes. He picked up his gray shirt and ran his fingers lightly over the now-dry bloodstains…Cid's blood. He had come so close to losing the cop that day, and the thought of that nearly made him physically ill. When had he come to care about Highwind so much? He hadn't seen it coming; his reaction had been proof of that. And then to have sex with him…Vincent winced. That had been about as memorable as finding a finger floating in one's soup. His behavior had been just about the most self-destructive it had ever been, and looking back he was nearly incapacitated by embarrassment. And still the cop had been patient, gentle…loving.
Guilt continued to eat at him as he tossed the clothes into a corner, and proceeded to shake out his hideously rumpled suit in preparation for having it sent to the dry cleaners in the morning. He began checking the pockets to empty them, and frowned when he got to his jacket pocket. Inside he found a scrap of paper. He pulled it out and unfolded it. What he saw stopped his heart, and caused his eyes to widen:
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come,
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom
That had not been in his pocket when he had arrived at Highwind's 'borrowed' apartment, which meant the cop had put it there. He read it again, and still one more time, his chin beginning to quiver and his eyes to blur. He closed his fist around the scrap of paper and brought it to his lips with a soft sob. "Oh, Cid," he breathed. The beast he had become was slowly being beaten back, not by fists or by chains, but by the tenacity of another man's love. When Vincent finally went to bed, he fell asleep with the scrap of paper with the messy handwriting clutched tightly in his fist.
Sleep had come slowly and reluctantly to Cid; he had slept so much the day before that his body protested. His mind, however, was yet again exhausted. He had not even begun to process what they had discovered in the warehouse, what it might mean, or Scarlet's plot and how it might play out. He had quite enough to worry him without all those things, and he pushed them aside yet again as he closed his eyes.
In another part of town that night, Aerith was surprised to see blinking red numbers on her home answering machine, and she rushed to check it immediately. She smiled when she heard Cid begin speaking, half-knowing already that what she would hear would somehow involve Vincent. The quality of Cid's voice, however, alerted her to the fact that this was not a happy call…and yet it was, in a way. Cid was free, free of the obligations only he had held himself to. He had experienced a major setback; Vincent had not openly returned his feelings, but Aerith knew that he would, in time. She had watched them, seen them interact and try to avoid interacting, and always they returned to each other. They would again, and when they did, Vincent would be free also.