I.
Her lunges for safety were sloppy and desperate. The snow was dragging her down, and it wasn't much longer now before he was on her. Her heart had leapt up to the back of her gnashing teeth; threatening to abandon her body and leave her and her camera behind. If the sound of the beast's pursuit hadn't been so god awfully loud, you would have been able to hear Tamar cursing and simultaneously praying for said god to save her life. She was far from an athlete, but might have been considered one now. She was lucky the snow was an equal hindrance for everyone…
II.
Shera scraped through the slush for her jumbled items and clenched her phone in her fist. She crawled up to her feet and took off in a tear. Her long legs ate ground; hopping from ruddy paw print to ruddy paw print in hot pursuit of the direction that Cid had ran in.
"CID!" Shera called out, and her voice broke. Her hair, and the harsh bite of the wind lashed her face as she squinted out into the dark.
"CID!" She called again. He, and whoever he was after (she had a good idea who), were nearly half way across the field. A breath later, and they had swept under the angry shadow of the launch pad. She could no longer tell what was happening. Not that she could see much before. Trying to keep track of her swift steps, she lifted her phone to her ear.
Reeve wasn't answering.
III.
The snow thinned and Tamar stumbled over a thick bed of ice. She screamed at the hot rush of air that followed the heavy snap of teeth. Her captured scarf seized her windpipe and she choked before it was fully yanked. It left her neck with a hot burn. The world wrenched her sideways. Tamar's body skidded and made rough contact with the landing gear in underbelly of the Tiny Bronco. She yelped out at the pain that consumed her back and throbbed in her side. She opened her mouth again to scream for help, but the sound froze in her throat. Her frightened eyes met her hunter's.
Pearly pupils narrowed into vicious pin points. A chilling blue, and inhuman, but she knew them all too well. She saw Captain Stuck-Up in those eyes and that scared her just a bit more. The beast opened his jaws as wide as the crawl space would allow and snarled. Tamar collected her limbs and shuffled as far away from him as possible. His thundering bark filled the tight space with hot hair. He lurched and the body of the plane creaked.
"Please don't push it over, please." She clutched her camera and rasped. Tamar's eyes flickered off the other side of a creaking stilt. She had just enough space to drag herself out.
VI.
Reeve didn't answer the fifth time she had called. Shera ripped the phone from her ear and stuffed it down in her pocket. She could see the twisting flame of Cid's tail peeking out from a warped shadow. He was hunched down before the miniature junk-yard he'd created in the past few months; clawing and growling for his target probably trapped beneath his plane. His tail twitched and flicked in increasing tension. He lunged aggressively and plane responded with an alarming groan.
Shera stepped off to the side, maybe she could catch her breath and reach him better around the other wing of the plane. "Cid, please calm down!" She raised her voice so she could hear it over the increasing volume of his own.
"He's going to kill me! Help me! Please!" Tamar could barely hear Shera, but she saw the movement of her legs on the other side of a wheel.
Shera had half a mind to leave her there, but Cid was pushing now, and she was sure he had a full mind to knock the poor plane over. "Hang in there," Shera wheezed "I'm going to see if I can calm him down."
"NO! TAKE MY HAND AND PULL ME OUT OF HERE!" She stuck one out, clawed for Shera to grasp it, and shrieked when she didn't. Tamar clung to a stilt; old oil smearing along her arms and legs. The beast had ripped up a considerable portion of frozen dirt from the space he'd stuck his nose in. He had more room, and was becoming dangerously close to seizing her and dragging her out himself.
"Something tells me that's not a smart idea." Shera held a hand up to shield her face and muttered. She crouched and flung some ice, though, it failed to gain Cid's attention. Shera was going to move in for his shoulder when something snapped around and bashed the wind out of her from her previously injured side. She landed face first, snow grazing her gums as she gritted her teeth. The smell of melting polyester filled her nostrils. Her hip was charred by the uncontrolled whip of Cid's pilot light. Shera bit back already freezing tears in the corners of her eyes and haphazardly attempted to pull herself back up again.
Another shriek shortly followed. Cid pressed his head beneath the Bronco's belly and pressed the plane up on his broad shoulders. It grated and was shoved into a short tail spin; wheels barely missing a skid over Tamar's body.
"T-Tamar, wait!" Shera could see the immediate thought that entered her head.
The older woman was up, darting, and then taking a very hard tumble. Cid shook the dirt from his fur and sent a paw crashing own over her body; pinning her beneath the pads.
His mouth was a blur. "CID, DON'T!" Shera snapped her eyes closed and ripped her vision away. She didn't want to watch him bite her head off.
V.
"Do you hear that?" The comedian's teeth were chattering. He bunched his coat over his house robe and tried to keep to the now lit portions of the street. Other Rocket Town residents were poking their heads out from their doors, or warily shivering in the street. Everyone appeared uncertain, and confused as to what was happening.
"I heard it first!" Mrs. Patel was shaking from the cold maybe, or a startled heart. A very small circle had formed around her. They were huddled. Everyone lingered before the joint of hers and the Captain's home. The only porch light in town that wasn't on.
"Heard what?" The butcher, strapping man he was, carefully looped his shot gun around to his other side. He rubbed his hands; his very disgruntled wife holding on to his forearm. The owner of the weapon's shop had the same idea. He was armed, and just as on edge eyeing the gate to the Captain's back property.
"The monster!" narrowed her eyes as if he'd asked a dumb question. Her nose ring twinkled with the irritated shake of her head. "It's got someone and we're all tucking our tails here."
"Ah…What are we supposed to do?" The conversation stalled, and everyone grew uncomfortably quiet. A scream, though faint, carried on the wind and whispered in their ears.
"Whatever they're doing." The comedian cleared his throat and motioned with his head behind them. The gun shop owner, and two other armed residents slipped in past the Captain's back fence and were moving quickly. Ross was right behind them and appeared to be incredibly exasperated, advising them to halt.
"Where is the Cap'n anyways?" The butcher rubbed the back of his neck; supposing that he should probably go with them to investigate. Truth be told, he wasn't in the mood to be as brave. He was stalling.
"Not here."
"His girl?"
"Not here either."
"Well…I'll be damned."
VI.
"Hello?" The questioned echoed and vibrated with ripples across the water's surface.
Cid took an unsure step forward and a sinking feeling engulfed the pit of his stomach. Water ran down in cold, trickling blurs. The twinkle of lights, and then a bell. He could feel the worn cushion of a barstool beneath his backside. Someone came to the other side of the hard top, and took a seat. He didn't peg them as someone interested in having a beer. They looked like a real lightweight. Their presence was strange, hunched. Cid eyed them from the corners, they weren't there for a drink. No, they were just passing through until they could travel elsewhere. Observing.
VII.
"You lookin' for somebody?" Cid's cigarette didn't have a taste. The smoke slithered out in wisps of blue steam from his mouth and nose. He ashed it, and the creek fish swirling around in the tray dodged its descent into the dark depths.
"Something of that sort." He couldn't see their eyes behind the shimmer in their glasses. They righted them on the bridge of their nose, and then curiously tilted their head in Cid's direction. "What do you want?"
"Nothin'. Don't recognize you."
VIII.
For some reason, they appeared offended. They sat up straight. Their eyes remained invisible, but Cid could feel that they were now interested in observing him. It was painful. Their moving line of sight was sharp and left clean cuts on his face, arms, estimated height, and weight. They sank a knife into his supposed age, and he choked on what he'd stopped eating.
IX.
"I don't live here, if that's what you mean." They curtly spoke. He could see their brows furrow above the wire frames of their lenses. They were still calculating.
"I…figured that. Know just about everyone in town. What are you here for?" They looked sterile. Official. Cid sank his hand into the bar front. His grip was tight, and the wood was cracking beneath his palm. Water pebbled up from between the splintering seams, and then bubbled up in puddles, spilling over and onto the floor.
"None of your business, but if you must know, Stranger," they paused and smiled. It was not friendly "I'm just taking a look at what's available here."
Cid did not respond.
"Tell me. How old are you?"
Cid did not respond.
"I see. Would you consider yourself a person who gets plenty of rest?"
Cid did not respond.
"You look healthy enough." They pursed their lips at the sight of Cid's ashtray. "That's a disgusting habit you have. I wonder what that would affect."
X.
Cid abruptly stood from his stool. Turbulent waves sloshed thigh high around his legs. It was rising around his waist; eager to gobble up his chest and shoulders. "What the fuck do you want?" His breathing was ragged. He could hardly speak around the canines that itched his gums as they grew. This was his other voice.
"None of your business, Stranger. I've found what I want."
The bar front was ripped from the brackets. It burst in Cid's palm like a balloon and disappeared with the dispel of more water. It grew hot, bubbling, and his attention snapped down to what was brewing. There he was; long nose, glowing eyes, and muzzle pulled back over black gums. He leaned over the edge of the creek bed and had a good look at himself.
Cid's head snapped back up again. They were silent in watching him. Weren't they going to leave? No, they were waiting for him to leave first. He swallowed the lump of raw meat in his throat, and turned his back toward the door that was no longer there. The bell, that damn bell, it was ringing behind him with his steps.
The alley was what greeted him when he finally made his exit. The presence had lurked out with him. Cid swiveled around on his heel. And finally, their eyes, he saw them. But, they weren't the eyes he was glaring into currently.
They were wide, and frightened; pleading for their life. Cid closed his mouth and stopped crushing them with the force of his hand.
XI.
"Tamar?"
XII.
"Don't you think this is trespassing?" The butcher had left his wife and his breaths behind him. They'd spotted Ms. Joules tossed items in the snow along with a mess of snow and three sets of tracks. No blood, so that was a relief for now.
"I mean, Head Honcho is way out that way, isn't she? Sounds like someone is in a world of trouble. Shouldn't we help?"
"Part of this property line is mine, too!" Sort of. had forced the comedian to carry her, and he'd nervously complied. She hung over his shoulders; her crossed arms dug into his neck, and her long braid kept swatting his face. "You just want to be nosy."
"So do you?!" They all snapped at her in unison.
"Speaking of nosy…" The comedian wheezed; hitching Mrs. Patel up when she began to slip. "Where's Tammy?"
"Uh, the reporter?"
Now that they thought of it, it was strange she wasn't at the forefront. That's probably because she already was.
"Yeah, shouldn't she—" The question was never fully asked. A flash of red startled all of them. A gust of air as it came by, and then before they knew it, it, or they, were far ahead.
XIII.
Cid struggled to remain awake. His heart hammered in his chest with the hallow sound of his inhales. He staggered back and his legs wobbled in a fit of confusion. Tamar took the opportunity to run when she was finally released. She nearly collided into Shera. She snagged the assistant by the end of her coat, slipped in her hurry, and almost drug her back down to the snow again. She was hysterically crying and utilizing Shera as a shield.
"Get off of me!" Shera snarled. Tamar gripped her too tight, and her fingers weren't helping her fresh burn.
Tamar moved in every opposite direction that Cid did, making sure that Shera remained the partition between them. "I told you he was going to kill me! EAT ME. DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR DOG."
"Well he didn't, you're still here." Unfortunately. "And don't call him that. Off!" She shoved the older woman flat onto her rump, and attempted to right herself so she could get a grasp on the situation. Cid wasn't attacking, but he wasn't behaving normally either.
She limped toward Cid, trying to see if she could attempt to calm him again. His head and his body swayed. For the first time since she'd ever seen him this way, he laid his ears flat against his head and lowered. He squinted and whined. It was almost as if he was having trouble seeing. Shera thought he might collapse.
"Something's wrong, isn't there." Shera whispered and cautiously crossed the muddied space to where he was. He pulled his muzzle back over his teeth and growled, but she wasn't bothered. "What did they give you…?" She placed her hand near the bottom rim of a dilated eye and gingerly wiped.
His body shook before sinking. Shera had to take a swift hop back to avoid being trapped beneath his head. Cid opened his mouth and made an assortment of strange noises before bellowing out something understandable: Her name.
"Where are you?!"
"I…" Shera wasn't sure of what to make of the outburst. Cid, Cid's voice, was crystal clear after all of the static. "I'm right here."
"Tamar, you bitch." Cid yanked his head up and boomed. He couldn't see her anymore, but he could smell her. He extended his neck, opened his mouth wide, and roared. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY YARD."
Shera had crushed her hands over her ears. When the ringing eased she placed her arms over the bridge between his eyes. "Cid, calm down!"
Did she have to be told twice? Tamar was scrambling to leave, but not quick enough. She'd almost lost her life, but this was just perfect. She instinctively lifted her camera and brought the eye piece up to view. She was met with a cracked lens, minimal function, and someone looming behind her.
XIV.
Vincent was unaffected by Tamar's startled scream. His eyes were narrowed behind the high collar of his cloak. He lifted an armored finger, revealing his mouth as he spoke. "I would gain more distance, if I were you. Step aside." He advised, and then swept past her. Tamar brushed shoulders with someone else who was making their way through. Clad in a suit, it was an older man with slicked black hair and a beard. The toy cat over his shoulder stuck out its tongue at her.
More people were coming, albeit, much slower and much more afraid of what they were going to see.
XV.
"I called you, you know." The sight of Reeve was a surprise. Shera didn't remove herself. She was covering Cid's eyes with her body. Seated on the bridge between his eyes, each leg was firmly planted in the snow on either side of his head. He was fidgeting, but breathing and relatively calmed for now.
"I apologize. Vincent and I were preoccupied with some other urgent matters." Reeve dropped to one knee, though he knew to keep his distance with Vincent. He assessed the Captain from his crouch. His expression was an unreadable one.
Shera's brow arched and she craned her head to meet their gazes.
"I'll explain when there is a chance to. I can't stay very long." He stood to his feet.
"Reeve? What did they give Cid this time? He's…" Semi-conscious of himself. It was a first.
The commissioner sighed. "That, I won't be able to explain. You have company."
Company…right. Shera twisted her head the other way. Her cheek brushed the soft, shaggy fur of Cid's forehead. A group trot came to a crawl. She heard the last crunches of footsteps and met the anticipating faces of some of the residents. It was going to come down to this eventually. The scenario was always at the back of Shera's mind.
"Would you put those away?!" Ross, the woman was not a runner or fond of the cold, hissed. The gun shop owner only heeded her partially. His gun was still clutched tight in his hand. Shera could see his eyes were worried and sincere, though, the sight of it made her reasonably anxious. Everyone had made their stop behind the first snooping group; trying to see over and around eachother's shoulders.
Cid's deep breathing was the only thing that made sound for several uncomfortable moments. Dawn kissed the tip of his wet nose. Even the sun was rising to take a good look.
"What…what is that Ms. Shera?" It went without saying that this was The Monster.
"What I've been telling you all, all along!" Tamar's voice was hoarser than it already was. Her mascara streaked her cheeks and her clothes were covered in mud and oil. She clutched her camera like it was an injured solider. It looked like both of them had been through war. "That hulking slab of shaggy carpet is Captain Cid Highwind, and he tried to kill me."
In response, everyone stared at her as if she were crazy.
Shera peered past her lopsided glasses and silently begged Vincent for help. He shook his head. He didn't have anything to say. Neither did Reeve. Her eyes met Ross', and of course the woman's lips were tightly sealed. She crossed her arms beneath her terry robe.
Why did she have to do every damn thing herself?
Sucking in a breath, Shera adjusted her grip in Cid's fur, and then opened her mouth. Words began to form, but not before Cid abruptly pulled his head upward.
"Shut the fuck up, Tamar."
In response, everyone gasped.
Well, I'll be damned.
"Um, I-I can explain." Shera could feel Cid beginning to wake. His bones weren't as sturdy as they were a moment ago. Vincent silently removed his cloak in anticipation.
XVI.
Shera slowly smoothed her hand over Cid's hairline. She removed stray strands of his hair, and tucked them behind his reddened ears. He was lucidly staring up at the ceiling. He'd woken, but he never seemed to 'wake-up'. He lethargically adjusted himself when she had helped him put on some decent clothes. He ate three helpings of breakfast and ignored everyone who'd tried to get a word with him. He, and his partner hid behind their collars to the court house for an…urgent spring-of-the-moment meeting.
Shera promised she would explain. Everyone was already up; warming themselves for the talk that would flow through the morning. And what a talk it was. Perhaps, they only felt a little betrayed, and very much shocked. Which was more alarming? That Cid had been more than involved? Or that Tamar was actually right?
Shera rubbed the bags beneath her eyes, and then nervously clasped her hands at her front. She stood near Ross' usual podium, with Cid taking a seat on one of the stairs. Everyone had cleaned themselves up from earlier in the morning. All eyes on her. Ross stood off to the other side with her hand splayed intelligently over her mouth. No words from her. As far as anyone knew, she knew nothing.
"I should probably start with an apology." It annoyed Shera that Cid was sitting, but then again, he wasn't all together this morning. "And that uh, yes, we lied." She awkwardly scratched beneath her ponytail.
"I really can't explain everything, but I will tell you what's important." Shera paused to gather her thoughts. "Ah, Cid's issue isn't voluntary, and he isn't conscious when it happens. When the," and she quoted with her fingers "'monster' first started appearing, Cid and I were just as clueless as you were. We had no idea."
Some meeting attendees incredulously shifted in their seats. "As I said, his alternation wasn't voluntarily administered to him. We discovered, eventually, that he 'attacked' things when he was hungry, because if he didn't, he would have died before he could turn back. It's this form of sleepwalking that consumes all the victim's energy to initiate." Shera's hands shook as she rummaged through the bag that she'd brought with her. She produced her tablet and swiped it on.
"I think the information I have here will better explain. They're official files held within the W-R-O. We've been trying to get Cid on some sort of…medication to prevent our 'monster' from returning. In short, really, we apologize. The whole situation was difficult. Right, Cid?" Shera forged a smile, and then passed the tablet to Ross, who passed it to the first seated attendee. The tablet was handed from person to person, and looked through with deep, collective interest. Pockets of chatter formed.
The Captain scratched his chin, and then blew out a very tired breath. He grunted with a push on his knees, and stood up at Shera's side. He was done letting her do all that the talking, he guessed.
"Er, yeah, it ain't feel right keeping it to ourselves, but, uh, I only hear what goes down after I'm awake." He was irritated with himself. "Sorry. I ain't got anything else to say. Uh, Fella, I'll sorry for eatin' your damn birds so I'll pick up some eggs from a hatch yard, and Debora I'll buy you another ugly cat. Lady Patel, I can come over and board up the side of your house. And if anybody else needs their damn pets replaced, of if you wanna sue me, you're out of luck, cause that's all the cash I got for coverin' damages."
"What about the attacks on people?" Tamar raised her hand and spoke before she was even addressed. Her foot was wagging impatiently. She wasn't wearing a scarf either. Supposedly, she wanted everyone to have a clear view of her bruises.
"You weren't breakfast. You're fine. Are we good?" Cid rubbed his forehead. He was growing a migraine.
Shera pinched the bridge of her nose.
Likewise, Ross sighed. "Does anyone else have any questions?"
Oh, yes. Plenty, but no one was bold enough to ask at the moment. Shera had already put her phone on silent.
XVII.
It could have been worse. That's what he told himself. The fall out of the launch was worse than this, then again, Cid worked for ShinRa. He really didn't work for this town. There wasn't anything they could do about him, except be a little apprehensive, and mind how they asked their questions. Cat, or dog, or whatever Nanaki was, was out of the bag.
Cid tried to go along with his business like it'd never happened, and he was good at that, but even now it was hard. It placed a weird feeling in his gut for everyone to know; a sensation he couldn't put his finger on. Maybe it was hurt pride.
"Just toss it out that way." The Captain grumbled. He'd neglected to have a smoke, but he really needed one.
"Right…" The assistant technician working with him for the day kept giving Cid looks he thought he didn't see. "When are we going to have all of those scrap parts hauled in here?" He and a couple of others hadn't looked Cid in the eye today.
"Whenever the Commissioner pays the hauling crew to haul their own asses down here." Cid chewed on the end of a zip-tie, and placed his hands on his waist. He gave the younger mechanic a very steady stare. "I'm not gonna bite if that's what you're expecting."
"Oh, I'm sorry if I…It's just that…you are alright, aren't you?" He didn't know any other way to ask.
"I'm fine. Mind your damn business, kid. Why don't you tell Ruben to stop heckling the welding team and hop to bottom floor. I got other things to fuckin' do today."
"Y-yes, sir."
XVIII.
The porch door closed with a slam. Cid hadn't entered through the front, because he didn't want to bother with talking to Lady Patel outside. Old hag was probably waiting for him. She had a habit of asking very strange questions. He was done with questions for the day. The Comedian, who he had the displeasure of running into on his lunch break, asked him in total facetiousness if he "ever had any problems with fleas, ahaha?" Cid wanted to throw his coffee in his face.
Sabrina? Was that what her name was? Was the other half to the floosy little couple that liked to have make-out sessions at random. She asked him a question that bothered him more than the Comedian's.
"She was sitting on your nose," she said something of that sort "and her side was all chewed up. I thought you were going to toss her around. It reminded me of when bad guys have to hold their fighting dogs when they get crazy. She's your girlfriend isn't she? Aren't you a little scared of…you know. It must be so weird to be a werewolf. I should have guessed when you started changing your hair and like, lifting trees or whatever. Oh my god, I used to know this guy once that" He walked away from her. She didn't even notice he'd left her in the corner store to have a pointless conversation with her damn self.
"My day has been longer than yours." Shera greeted Cid before he could get his sigh out past his chest. He deflated, removed his boots, and walked the walk of shame to the table where Reeve was waiting for him. Vincent was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't surprise anyone. He'd made his delivery, that being Reeve, and that was the end of his helping hand. Probably see him again next year.
"You wanna bet?" Cid challenged her. With a frown, he placed his hand on that 'chewed up' side Sabrina or whatever, had been yapping about. His touch was gentle in pulling back the bandaging. A burn not a bite? It was shiny beneath the smelly ointment that covered it. The Captain placed the bandaging back and kissed the exposed curve of her shoulder.
"Right, I have my own explaining to do while I still can." He cleared his throat and reminded Cid that he was there.
Shera pressed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She lifted the remote from the table top she sat on, and turned down the TV. Ignoring how itchy her burn was, she urged Reeve to continue.
"Vincent and I took a brief detour to Wutai." He took Cait Sith from under his arm and Shera reached out with her hands to take him. She smoothed her fingers over his cotton fur. "Godo had been monitoring the situation here. He requested with his daughter in mind, since she plans to work under the Organization, that we update him when we can."
"What was wrong in Wutai?" Cid sank into a chair. His usual mug was already there on a coaster; steaming with a fresh brew. It pained him how Shera still remained thoughtful. He lifted it to his lips and kept his ear trained.
"We aren't sure...A fox demon is what they claim." Reeve waved it off. "But that explains why I wasn't able to reply to your calls. I apologize, Ms. Joules. As for Cid's medication, I should probably mention some other pieces of information first."
"And that is?" Shera was bracing herself.
"That it's unlikely that the Captain's condition is reversible at this stage. Its administration is intended for SOLDIER related purposes, and you can't really undo a SOLDIER past a certain circulation period."
"I feel like that's not the bad part."
"You…you would be correct." Reeve matter-of-factly scratched his cheek. "The other bad news, I should say, is that there are only two common chemical links that will effectively alter Cid's sleepwalking. They are going in a new direction with the preventative, so I will tell you what they told me."
"I'm going to assume the tester from last night was one of the links." Shera's legs fell out from under her and limply swayed over the edge of the table. Cid placed his mug down and took her hand. She looked a little heart broken.
Reeve pressed his hands together. "That assumption would also be correct."
"It gets worse, doesn't it?" She asked him.
Reeve's expression tensed. He was wincing. "Y-yes. The other that I'm sure you're eager to try, they're confident that will kill him. Ah, however, I think a bit of consciousness is an upside. So, no more preventatives. The idea is a control aid."
"Hn..." Cid allowed the converse to pause. That was right…He certainly remembered something last night. Something… He remembered the look in Tamar's eyes, and the weight of Shera's body holding his vision in the dark. "I really don't want to control it, if that's what ya mean Reeve. I really just want to be able to sleep in my own damn bed again."
"That's understood. You'll need your rest for the year to come." He removed something from his breast pocket. Cid took the parcel; very familiar with what it was. "Wait two weeks, and then begin taking that there. It will take some time, I'm told, but you should be able to pick and choose when you want to deal with your problem. I don't know all of the details. I will give you the research number. They're…eager to work with you on it."
Cid slumped in his seat and sighed. So that was that, huh? "I guess I ain't got much of a choice." He squeezed Shera's fingers. Her look in response was appreciative. She could see in those hazel eyes though, that he had her full support.
"I need to head back to Wutai now for a follow up. I'll speak very briefly to Ross about allowing the proper exuviation and haul of your scrap parts."
"Well, shit. Somethin' I can look forward to."
XIX.
"What are we going to do now?" Shera had yanked the house phone from the landline. She licked sugar from her lips and returned to were Cid had laid himself, therapy style, over the length of the couch. He was thinking the same thing in his head. Not everything had gone the way he really hoped it would.
"Keep working. Keep declining calls. I'll keep working on my ship. You can keep sticking me in the ass with the needle. Worlds not going to stop now that everyone knows I've got some sharper teeth. I'm uh, actually really prayin' nobody sues me. I'd sue ShinRa if they were still round' " He bitterly laughed.
"I think everyone would sue if they were still around, Cid. You really think it's going to work out?" Cid didn't leave her much room, so she laid over his stomach. Her belly pressed into his; long brown hair fanned out and tickled his shoulder. It has been an absolutely ridiculous year, but there she was. Still his unlucky assistant, turned unlucky girlfriend.
"Tifa gave me a ring while I was on break. She says she thinks it'll work out. And Barret, says he'll hang around if we need it."
"Mm," She pressed herself in to the warmth that collected in the underside of his neck "I'm glad Reeve is paying me to sit at home, or else going out for work would be really difficult. You know what the highlight of my day was?" Shera pressed her full lips to his collar. Her soft kisses made him feel like his whole day hadn't been absolute shit.
"What?" He bent his knee and placed his hand in the small of her back.
"You know Robin, the butcher? He gave me a personal discount." Shera snorted. The man looked like he'd had lots of things to ask, but he was naturally included to keep his nosiness to himself. Mrs. Patel on the other hand had been her unexpected…shopping assistant. The Widow wanted to make sure she killed two birds with one stone; grilling her into maximum embarrassment, while simultaneously ensuring Shera had purchased all the supplies Cid needed to fix the side of her house. That was just the tip of the iceberg. She didn't have any energy to mention the bottom.
"Shit…you oughta' be his number one customer now, huh?"
"I'm sure we are." Her kissed came to a stop on the scratchy underside of his chin. Shera lifted and her eyes aligned with his. Her look was thoughtful and patient; Cid could literally see her loving him. It sank in his stomach over the feeling he'd been digesting earlier. He was going to have to bring her flowers every damn day of her life to make up for all of his bullshit, wasn't he?
"What are you thinkin'?" The Captain asked her instead.
"Nanaki told me something kind of funny once." She crawled up and propped herself higher on his chest. Her cellphone began to vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out, and tossed it across the living room floor. It slid and was muffled under the kitchen rug. "About how they can tell when they're loved."
"That's funny?" Cid's confusion was obvious in his voice. He gently gripped Shera's shoulders and accepted a ginger kiss.
"Mm, he said…that when they find someone they love, they go way out into the desert, comb through cactuses, and find something they think will be the most extraordinary to present to the one they love when they get back home." She knew he wasn't sure where she was going with it, but continued. "You've brought me a lot of junk, I think."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Mmm…" Shera placed her hands on his neck and gifted Cid another kiss. He parted his mouth, and she gently slipped her tongue there. "You brought me something I really did, though." She broke their kiss to straddle his waist. She seated herself over the pit of his belly.
"What I bring ya…?" He mouthed; fully sated.
"The navigation wheel." Shera quieted her voice. Her eyes grew warm, maybe determined even. "I want to give it back to you in the same context you gave it to me." She sat up and clasped one of Cid's hands. "I know a lot is going on, and we don't really know what's going to go on in the future, but this is on my heart so…"
"So…?" Cid's eyes widened. There was no way he could piece together all that she meant, but he realized what she was trying to say was incredibly important. His heart kicked his chest and he hoped his pulse would show up anywhere else.
"You should ask Nanaki more about it. If you ever get the chance." Shera smiled; flashing him a very genuine pair of teeth. She flopped down and blew a raspberry on his adam's apple and absolutely everything was right in the world again.
"Just one question…."
"Yes, Cid?"
"I can really have the wheel back?"
"Yes, Cid. You can have your ring back."
XX.
The swirling fumes of late spring were nothing compared to the deepest irritation Cid had suffered in learning how to control himself. Reeve gave him the whole notecard, prescription bottle label spill on what he would probably be taking for a steady chunk of the next three years. And then, he'd rolled in that'd he'd have to consult a (learning mind you) sleep coach. Seasonal allergies where things he could deal with, but some bobble head who didn't know anything about anything telling him how he wasn't supposed to sleep was beyond his patience. As bitter as he was, though, something was working. Slowly, surely, eventually. It became the same ol' same ol' with some sweet progress on the side.
No one had forgotten his quote, condition, unquote, but at the very least, enough time passed for them not to ask so many questions. It wasn't enough time for Tamar to fucking let it go, but people in town ate up what they ate up, and usually weren't interested in left overs. Cid just figured he'd stop reading the paper, and so that issue was easily resolved…on most days.
"Cid don't do that." They'd left the window open in Cid's bedroom to allow in the crisp scent the near mountains brought down from their peaks. The air was lukewarm over the surface of Shera's exposed legs. The distant sound of the night crew's construction shifts lulled the town to sleep as it rolled later into the night. She had guided her arm over his eyes to keep him from removing his, eheheh, prescribed (hated) sleeping mask.
"I don't need this thing."
"Isn't it supposed to keep everything dark, even when your eyes open? Keep it on. I'm sure it helps."
"The meds help. Not this thing."
"You're just saying that because you think it's girly. Why are you so sensitive…" She clicked her tongue and draped her thigh over his hip. She pulled on the finger that held his wedding ring, and kept him from yanking the mask off by the strap.
"I ain't sensitive." He allowed Shera to take his hand and hold it near his chest beneath the covers. Cid closed his eyes and relaxed himself. If he slept like himself all night, maybe he could be his other self in the morning. He'd realized he was good tool. And Shera corrected him in saying he was perfectly useful when he was properly fed. Whatever. It was a work in progress.
XXI.
Shera drug her hand through her bed sheets in blind search of her phone. She dug it out from beneath Cid's headboard pillow; almost afraid it had woken him. When his snore continued, she unlocked the screen and searched for the vibrating notification that had disturbed her. It was from Reeve? The last text she'd received from him was an inquiry on jet fuel. What was this?
XXII.
TUESTI, REEVE/ I apologize if this is late. Are you awake?
RE: I am now…Is there something wrong?
RE:re: Yes. I received a contact from Godo. Remember the issue I was mentioning a month or two ago?
RE:re:re: I don't recall you specifying what the issue was, Sir.
RE:re:re:re: We weren't sure what it was. It seems now, the local population is sure they have induced the wrath of a cunning fox demon.
RE:re:re:re:re: A fox demon…? Are we missing some chickens, Commissioner?
RE:re:re:re:re:re: Mrs. Highwind, you're very good at making guesses.
RE/RE:re: This is important to know. You were bitten at some point?
RE/RE:re:re: …Yes?
This marks the end. Thanks so much to everyone who read, and who will read in the future!