The Sum of Gil
At some point during the night, we wound up in the bed and entwined. I remember running my hands over him and him confessing that my assumptions were right about how he knew so much about me. But it wasn't after Sephiroth died at Nibelheim since his hands were tied by Shinra then, and Hojo was always in his way.
Instead, it was after Sephiroth stabbed him.
"Since everyone thought I was dead, I was able to research him without any interference."
He still leaves out the part about how he managed to survive when he confesses about why he was obsessed with researching what happened to his lover though. But I suppose I couldn't blame him for wanting to find everything he could concerning the man he'd given up so much for.
And I doubt I should have been surprised that my name appeared within some of those records.
"It wasn't until I woke up in that hospital that you dropped us off at and someone mentioned your name that I remembered something about you from the records I found," he tells me as he leans farther into me when I refuse to let him pull away.
"So you went back to find out what it was."
"Mm," he mumbles in confirmation before he intertwines his fingers with mine, "you were there when it all started."
"I was," I admit. Then I cuddle my arms more firmly around him and brush my lips over his shoulder.
"I never paid attention when I first came across them that you were the one that tried to stop them."
"I didn't try hard enough."
"No," he agrees with a subtle shake to his head.
Then he tries to turn around and I stop him, still not wanting to be separated just yet as I return to smoothing my hands over his torso and kissing the sensitive parts of his shoulders.
"But I don't think there's anything you could have done."
"Why's that?"
"Because they'd already injected the cells into the fetus before you found out."
Then he falters for a moment and quirks his brow as the thought that he voices strikes him, "Unless you were intending to kill the child."
But I don't answer him. Instead, I close my eyes as I merely go back in time and literally hear Hojo's gun going off before I fall to the ground with a suffocating thud and overhear the beginnings of the lewd ideas of what he's going to do with what's left of me.
Everything he does fails though, only for Lucrecia to discover that the stagnant Lifestream he tried to bring me back to life with made me the perfect host for her discovery—Chaos.
She claimed it was to save my life and he accused her of doing it for nothing more than fame for what she'd found, and I've never known which one of them was right. Nor have I ever been the same as I literally start to tremble from the sudden sense of self-loathing over what I've become.
And after what feels like an eternity of dead silence, I think I hear Tseng's voice in the distance calling my name as if it's from a dream. He's not calling me Vince though. He's calling me Vincent.
Why?
He's also telling me to gain control.
I don't know if I'm dreaming and I have no idea what the other unfamiliar sounds are either. I even fear that I may be hurting him due to the fact that I can't seem to pull myself out of whatever dreamlike nightmare I think I might be in before I find myself praying to the gods that never listen that I'm still me while my insides coil in on themselves, like I'm retracting.
Or more accurately, trying to run away.
I don't know what happens since then.
The last thing I recall after another long silence is Tseng standing by the side of the bed with his gloves on and muttering out, "Cure2," before leaning over and placing a kiss on my forehead. Then he sits beside me. He's wearing his suit, and even in my confusion, I'm wondering where he got it from and when he put it on.
"Don't take it personally, Vince," he quietly says as he stares straight ahead and subtly sighs. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Then he slicks his hair back and blows a fine powder into my face, making me jump from the unexpected surprise as he leans over me and tests the ropes around my wrists before I realize I'm tied up, and he nods to assure himself. After that, he gently lifts the lid of my eye with his thumb so he can make some sort of assessment that I don't think I want to know about.
"I really hate to do this," he tells me, sounding strange and underwater as a dizzying weight starts to overpower me and I feel slightly sick from it, "I really do like you."
Then he brushes his gloved thumb over my bottom lip and breathes out through his nose before saying, "But I'm afraid it will never work between us—as appealing as you can be at times—and I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave now. I hope you'll understand."
With another sigh, he sits back and pats me on the inner thigh and stands before straightening his suit and slicking his hair back again. Then he looks at his watch and leans toward the dawning light of the day hazily shining through the window and creating a halo of gold shining from his skin and the exposed parts of his white shirt. And when I hear the garbled sound of a helicopter echoing dully through my ears and the stale scent of dust that it must be stirring up, I find myself cringing.
I'm not sure exactly what it is that's making me cringe though.
"Well," he says as he straightens up again and regards me one last time, "I know those ropes won't hold you for long. But please, Vince, have the decency to take this as a hint if not an outright message to quit following me."
He shakes his head then and mutters in a way that can barely be heard, "You're a good man… You deserve better."
Then he picks up a metallic case that I didn't notice the night before and he walks toward the door before stopping and turning to me.
"By the way, you were great last night."
After that, the bastard smiles at me and pops what I'm assuming is a hard candy or a chocolate into his mouth, not that it matters, before he leaves me there, vulnerable and with the spell of sleep to keep me at bay and the restraints to slow me down from picking up his next trail—should I be fool enough to pursue him.
And finally, I give in and close my eyes while questioning who the real monster is between us and cursing myself for falling compassionate toward him when he obviously doesn't deserve it or even need it.
Of course, it wasn't like he didn't warn me.
When I finally awaken hours later, I'm still disoriented and unable to focus. Whatever he drugged me with wasn't the typical dream powder that I originally suspected it was, and I can only assume that it was some sort of hybrid. I can hardly grab onto the rope since my vision keeps slipping, multiplying everything I look at and mercilessly spinning it around.
Whether it's something he has access to because of his medical status or if it's something Shinra has been working on seems unimportant while I struggle to gain a small enough amount of focus to untie myself. Or at the very least, the ability to loosen the ropes enough for relief will do.
Then all the sudden, a tingling wash crawls out from the centre of my spine, spreading like frozen water being released from a vessel and I hear a dark and familiar chuckle, deep. It's from the realms of death itself, I realize, as the ropes snap on their own and I quickly stumble to the floor, almost falling to blindly search for my gun. And although I can't see or even verify what I'm mindlessly shooting at, I fire off as many shots as I can, emptying the chamber while frantically rubbing at my eyes with the palm and back of my other hand to try to clear them out.
But there's no one here except for charred marks on the floor that look like they might be the result of Tseng's 'beta' spell, and then I suddenly remember him muttering 'cure2' over me while wearing his gloves. I can only assume that we must have had company at some point during the night and that Chaos must have manifested, given the way I recall him yelling at me as if he were commanding a dog to heel.
Other than that though, I have no idea what might have happened. I can only speculate. And I have no idea when Tseng must have dressed me either, or even why. Nor do I know why he used the revive materia on me. And to top it off, I have no idea why the ropes snapped like they did while I run my hand along the floor in search of my gauntlet and continue to rub at my eyes to clear out the blurry haze while the scent of used gunpowder settles around me.
To make matters worse, I'm beginning to wonder if Chaos had manifested and attacked him and that maybe he had to attack me back to defend himself. If only I could remember. But I guess I'm not going to get anywhere by speculating on what may or may not have happened, and when I catch a fuzzy image of the glaring colour of garnet through the corner of my eye, half-lying on a chair and running down to the floor, I quickly grab it and blindly fumble with the buckles to fasten it back on before finding the rest of my armour and clumsily stumbling to find my way out.
When I make it to the bottom of the stairs with my face buried into my mantle and behind a heavy veil of hair, the woman at the counter calls my name, and the only reason I stop is because she knows it. Confused and curious at the same time, I reluctantly turn to her while still hiding behind my hair and cloak as she places what looks like an envelope on the counter and pushes it toward me.
"The man that left asked me to give this to you."
At first, I just stare at the glaring white object, blinking hard to try to focus on what it is until I realize I'm making her more uncomfortable by the second by doing so. Then I wonder if I should just leave it there and tell her to tell him where to stick it. But curiosity has the best of me as I'm sure Tseng would have anticipated, and I fall for the bait.
I'm not about to let him dictate all of my actions like the puppet he thinks I am though. And I refuse to open it after I quickly step up to the counter with aggressive steps as the sound of armoured metal hits the wood and the woman nervously steps back. Then I angrily snatch the envelope, nearly scrunching it like garbage and scratching the desk with the claws on my gauntlet before stuffing it into my pocket like I never want to see it again.
I turn sharply after that, angered by his audacity and causing the crimson of my cloak to slash through the dead air behind me, making everything seem dramatic and ignoring that fact just the same. It isn't until I get to the door that I suddenly realize how odd, for lack of a better word, my behaviour seems while I try to stop rubbing at my eyes again.
And as I place my hand on the door's handle, I shamefully lower my head and turn it only enough to acknowledge her.
"Thank you," I mutter, attempting to prove I can be more civilized than the beast I'm behaving like before I step into the glaring light of the day and shrink back when I see the blurry image of dark blue and gold walking out of the new items shop across the way.
The day's already begun and it can't possibly get any worse, I think to myself as I cringe when the familiar sound of Cloud's sombre voice calls my name in greeting and I wonder if it's possible to make myself completely invisible even though it's too late. I don't know why I'm feeling this way though, because if I think hard enough about it, me being in Nibelheim is no stranger than him being here.
Of course none of those points help alleviate the fact that small-talk always takes precedence, and the first thing Cloud asks me after I acknowledge him back is, "Is everything all right? You don't look so good."
Why I'm thankful that he didn't ask me why I'm here makes no sense since I could easily point at the mansion towering over us and he'd be able to fabricate something in his head by assuming I'm taking a walk down memory lane or attempting to research more about myself again.
And it would have been easier than searching for the excuse I eventually come up with when he steps closer and asks me, "What's wrong with your eyes?"
It's not necessarily a lie though, since I'm starting to categorize Tseng into the same category of all the other monsters running loose, and I tell him, "Sprayed in the eyes."
"By what?" he asks as he leans closer and stares at me in a way that I can't make out while I go to rub at my eyes again so I can see him better and he stops me.
"I think that'll only make it worse," he says before he comments that I should probably flush them out and then he suspiciously asks me again, fully noting that I didn't answer him the first time, "What was it?"
One of Shinra's secret experiments, I think to myself, wondering if that's exactly what he is, never mind what he sprayed me with while I bitterly try to swallow it back so I can quit passing all the blame.
"A crown lance," I tell him, thinking that will do just fine since their stingers have been known to spray sometimes, and he lets out a thoughtful, "Mm," and guides me over to his bike.
"I have some solution in storage," he says as he starts to dig around in his storage compartments and I stare at his bike, suddenly thinking that it would be fast enough to get me back to Tseng so I can settle the score while trying to convince myself that I'm in no condition to drive it while another part of me relentlessly argues. Then he turns around and asks me if I'm planning on staying while he hands me a small cup to rinse my eyes with.
"No," I tell him, sounding more definite and angry than I intended as I take the cup he filled and bring it to my eye.
"You going back home?" he asks while I wonder exactly where home would be even though I know he's talking about Kalm.
And I figure I might as well say, "Yes," since it's close enough to where I really want to go and it will spare me from any awkward question that might stem from any other answer.
"Hm," he mutters as he watches me in silence. Then he hands me the bottle of solution so I can take care of my other eye and points at the weapons shop.
"I just need to get one of my swords sharpened. Then I'm heading back to Edge," he tells me before pointing his thumb back at his bike. "If you want, I can drop you off on my way back."
You're actually going home? I think, knowing better than to voice it while I figure that he's probably the best opportunity I've got to get close enough to the farm.
"Thanks," I say, more or less stating that I'd like that before it looks like he nods and makes his way to the weapons shop. Then I dump the cup to refill it so I can flush out my other eye.
But I stop for a moment, noting that the solution only seemed to help a little, but enough for me to make out what's in the envelope Tseng left for me. And even though I doubt I want to see what it is, I can't help my curious nature as I blink a few times and hesitantly pull it out of my pocket as if I'm about to go over some kind of contract with the devil.
For a moment, I take a look around to ensure that I'm alone before I set my attention on the weapons shop and wonder why I'm concerned about someone seeing me open it. Then I shake my head while wondering if I'm ever going to get over this distrustful paranoia I suffer from, even though I know where it all stems from. And I let out a habitual breath that isn't necessary as if I need to cling to whatever humanity I can mimic, and I open the cursed envelope only to wind up clenching my fist around it in the semblance of suddenly wanting to strangle Tseng once I get a chance to fully know what it is.
There's fifty-thousand Gil from what I can make out, as if the Turk-bastard's stating that he owes me for my services and I'm tempted to stomp on the damn contents and set it on fire in the middle of the streets of Nibelheim. Then I suddenly think that I'd feel better if I personally rammed it down his throat right before I put a bullet between those miserable eyes of his, black as his soul if he even has one. Or better yet, I can watch those charcoal embers burn out as I strangle him to death.
I'm overreacting, I tell myself, knowing that it's probably not the best of plans to hunt him down like the animal he thinks I am over what he probably considers to be a small amount of Gil, despite whatever services were rendered. And I catch myself staring at the blurry image of Cloud's bike and squinting from the painful glare of the sun hitting the metal. I convince myself again that I'm in no condition to operate it before I turn to stare at the weapons shop and wonder how much longer he's going to be.
And once the thought of waiting longer than I want to passes through my mind, I find myself obsessively walking towards the bike with an uncontrollable pull while putting the cash back in my pocket and saying to hell with rinsing my other eye out. None of it goes with my better senses that are telling me to calm down, think clearly, and that I'm overreacting. But none of my better senses are sinking in right now, even though I know what they are and I climb onto the bike as if I'm possessed and start it up, ignoring Cloud as he runs out of the weapon's shop yelling something at me.
It could be something about me not being in the right condition to drive or the fact that he's not too impressed with me stealing his bike and leaving him stranded in Nibelheim, of all places. But I'm too far-gone at the moment to care about what his concerns are, and I'm just not willing to process any of what he's saying as I hit the accelerator and leave his protests in an angry cloud of dust behind me. Then I rub at my eyes again and try hard to focus enough on my surroundings so I can make it to my destination in one piece.
The journey is challenging, making me angrier with Tseng by the second for my lack of clear vision as I travel passed and through more near-misses than I'm willing to count. All the while, I constantly rub at my eyes only to discover that it's only making them worse instead of better. They're hazier and burning now.
I don't doubt for a second that he knows what he's done and what effect it's having on me either as I decide that I'm far enough away from Cloud and civilization as a whole to pull over without anyone interrupting me. And I spend more time than I need to arguing with myself to do it so I can try that solution of Cloud's on my eyes again and hope it will help a little like it did the first time.
And that's exactly what it does.
It helps a little.
By the time I make it to the farm, it's nearly dark and my eyes have cleared up enough to make out more subtle lines and details. It's still not enough to see clearly though, or as well as I would like to. And as I creep around the farm, I discover that Reno and Rude are nowhere to be found, leaving only Rufus to drive Elena crazy as she remains in his office with him to guard him. And I can only assume that Tseng is in his home.
And that's exactly where I go, clenching my teeth, lowering my head, and hatefully narrowing my eyes as I do so. I don't even think I'd care if Reno or Rude were present while I determinedly walk with quickening steps through the shadows of the darkening skies.
Of course, it's no surprise that Tseng still has all his curtains closed so I can't see where he is, what he's doing, or even if he's there or alone for that matter—not that it would make a difference at this point. And as I close the distance while drawing inward and sneering, I make my way to his bedroom window, remembering that the latch on it was broken even though it didn't seem to be anything to take note of the first time.
I can't help but snort over the fact that it takes little to no effort to open it as if he's inviting someone to come in and kill him, or something else. But I shake those thoughts off as I open it with little care over how much noise I make and step through before closing it with an obvious bang, only to be met with a knife flying at me from the direction of his bedroom door.
Not that it would have made much difference other than the ache, I still anticipate it enough to dodge it. Though it catches the end of my cloak and nails it to the wall just below the window's sill. All the while, the smug bastard is holding a cup of tea in his hand and taking a sip as if nothing out of the ordinary is transpiring.
Whether he's doing it on purpose just to piss me off or whether he really is that smug and intolerable, I'm still trying to figure out as I throw the insulting Gil at him, scattering it all over the place as it flutters through the air. Then I quickly tear the end of my cloak, leaving a patch of it stuck to his wall, and I lunge at him over his bed before he lands on his back with my fist clenching his tie and tightening it while he ignorantly complains that I made him spill his tea and that it was hot.
I couldn't care less about his damn tea as he struggles with my fists and tries to loosen the grip of me nearly choking him to death with his damn tie though, and I demand that he tells me what the hell he drugged me with.
"What did you drug me with?"
"Apparently… not enough," he chokes out before I finally meet my wit's end and pull out my gun with every intention to kill him if he doesn't stop playing with me.
"Quit playing with me and tell me!"
"Quit playing with you?" he repeats as he continues to struggle while defiantly staring at me, "The only person playing with you is yourself, Vincent."
"Vince!"
"Listen to yourself," he angrily spits out. "You'll find any reason or excuse to argue with me… fight with me."
Then he sneers at me when I pull back the safety on the gun.
"You'll even go so far as to come up with any reason to justify your excuse for wanting to kill me."
"You think you know what's going on in my head?"
"Yes," he answers before he quickly jerks his head and corrects himself. "No."
Then he grunts when my fist tightens more on his tie.
"I know I'm right about what I said. But other than that, I have no idea what goes on in that animalistic head of yours… You operate on primitive instincts that even I don't understand."
"I think you understand it better than you think you do," I accuse him, not even caring that I'm completely contradicting my previous argument while he snickers at me and quirks his brow like he catches the irony.
Then he narrows his eyes and stares at me, dead-on.
"I certainly have to say that I admire your integrity, Vince," he says, refusing to grimace when I jerk at his tie to remind him that my name is Vincent, "Once you set your mind to something, there's no going back for you, Is there?"
"You're right," I admit, to more than I care to admit to, and I convince myself that I'd be freeing us both as my finger tightens on the trigger and he stares at me like he honestly doesn't care.
Even his voice is dead and unconcerned when he evenly tells me, "When you're done with me, Vincent, at least have the decency to be honest with yourself when you continue to run like the hunted dog that you'll become."
"Honest about what?" I flatly ask, unwavering from my intentions.
"Honest about the fact that you never did like me," he tells me, like there's no argument that could convince him otherwise as he shortly explains, "It was the idea…"
Then he grimaces, but not from my loosening hold while breathing out, "The memory and the reminder of who you used to be is what you fell in love with… Not me…"
And then he tells me, almost like he means it though I think his motives are more digging than that as he closes his eyes and almost smiles, "It'll help you sleep at night."
