Final Fantasy VII 1. Chapter 1

Wish you were Here

The cherry swilleved around the glass, rotating on it's toothpick stem. He took a careful, considerate sip, revelling in the bitterness but wincing as it went down.

_'Just another goddamn perfect day in paradise.'_

The warm, friendly beach of Costa del Sol was one of the most saught after vacation spots on the entire planet; it's neverending summer and cloudless skies making for gorgeous tans and calmed spirits. Ever since joining up with AVALANCHE, he'd known he wanted to go there when everything was over, to sink his toes in the sand and forget about the anger.

Well, here he was. His team had saved the world, gotten little-to-no thanks, and disbanded. Apparently, the people didn't need terrorist groups when there wasn't any impending doom. Go figure.

He took another sip of his drink, looking out on the ocean blanketed by a blinding sunset. He might have thought it beautiful, if his mind hadn't been wandering somewhere else. Had he been paying attention, he would have felt the cool breeze across his face, and he would have tasted the underlying sweetness behind the bitterness of his drink. But, he wasn't.

He was thinking of black hair that was soft as down, gleaming red eyes filled to the brim with emptiness. He was thinking of a thin nose and dark lips that rarely curved into a smile, pale skin and hollow cheekbones. He was thinking of whispered words and hidden touches that he could still feel on his skin.

He was thinking of that last look he'd been given, that seemed to say goodbye before either of them could've known Vincent would be leaving. Sometimes he wondered though, if somehow the silent gunman hadn't _known_, deep in his heart, that the Final Battle would decide more than just the fate of the world.

His fingers tightened around the glass. While his mind might refuse to believe that Vincent had known, his heart told him otherwise. That was just how he was. He'd never, in all the time Cid had known him, believed that he deserved the life he'd had, not after everything he'd done. Cid had whispered it, night after night, over and over again, that he loved him, that he needed him, that without him he'd be nothing. Vincent had always thought of them as nothing more than words.

Did saying something repeatedly make it mean less to those around you?

He wondered about that too, sometimes, on evenings like this.

Maybe, if he'd never said it at all, just maybe, Vincent would have believed him.

Frowning down at his empty martini glass, he realized that he'd mindlessly finished it off.

_'The weather's nice, in paradise. It's summertime all year.'_

----------

_"I want you to stay here, Cid. Keep the Highwind running and ready. I have a feeling we'll be needing to leave quickly when this is over."_

_"Maybe I'll just leave you guys here, let you haul your sorry asses home yourselves." Cid smiled scathingly around his cigarette._

_"It wasn't my choice for you not to come. We need you here. Without you, we can't pilot this ship. Period. So you're staying." Cloud adjusted his shoulder sheath, his buster sword making small noises, an unconscious attempt to break through the painful silence._

_"Y'all better still be alive when you come back. You know how much I hate blood getting all over my fucking ship. It gets in the woodwork and then that shit's just impossible to clean out." Nanaki's whiskers pulled back in a knowing grin, his tail brushing gently over the ship's deck._

_"Don't worry, Highwind. We'll try not to bleed all over your ship."_

_Cid reached down, tugging gently on one of the soft red ears, and crouched until he was level with Nanaki._

_  
"Seriously. Be careful. This won't be no goddamn cakewalk, Red."_

_"Sure thing, Captain."_

_Cid stood back up, looking out at the assembled group. Cloud and Barret looked impatient, probably just about pissing themselves to get started. Tifa looked nervous, not noticing the way Yuffie was eying her materia, and Vincent looked...well...bored. He was leaning against the door, eyes closed, arms crossed in front of him, like he couldn't care less. That was just how Vincent was._

_Looking over the railing, you could see the Northern Crater directly below them, ominously waiting while the Highwind's propellers blocked out any other sounds. It was cold on the deck, the brisk winter wind chilled their skin, with little flecks of snowing flying up to hit their exposed faces every now and again._

_"My baby don't fly with ice on her fans, ladies. If the propellers ice up while y'all are in that goddamn crater, we ain't gonna be leavin' until this storm clears. If I see any ice startin' ta collect, I'm leavin' your aforementioned sorry asses behind."_

_Vincent's eyes opened slightly, casting a glance at the rambling captain. Their eyes met across the room, an intangible feeling running along the gaze. It went unnoticed by the others, but that didn't make it any less real._

_"We shall hurry."_

_-----------_

_Cid ran back and forth along the deck, breath coming out in thick puffs of white, hands shivering from the mounting cold._

_"Shit! They're freezing bad, damnit. Get the fuck over here, someone, I need help!"_

_Climbing the slippery iron ladder that led to the upper deck, shipmate in tow, Cid began to hack at the ice forming on the propellers angrily, as the storm raged around them._

_"Who...the...hell...would have thought...it would start goddamn fucking sleeting...on the one day...we need it to be clear!" He was panting heavily, the exertion making him sweat, the wind instantly freezing it onto his skin._

_"Goddamn it, it's not going to work! Get back down, tell everyone we're preparing for take-off. If they're not back in five fucking minutes, we'll be left with no other option." He pushed roughly at the crewmember, urging him to move before following him quickly._

_He ran back into the ship, opening the cargo hold door before it, too, got stuck, and hurried to the main steering room, plopping down unceremoniously into the Captain's Chair. He fiddled with the controls with the mindless ease of someone who was born to be at the wheel, flipping the ignition switch and smiling when his ship begin to purr._

_"Come on baby, come on, work for me." With shaky hands, he lit a cigarette, shoving it roughly into his mouth. The engine groaned and sputtered, and the propellers clicked, trying to break through the layers of ice binding them to the other metal. One by one, you could hear them begin to move freely, breaking off any remaining chunks of ice._

_"Good girl, stay with me, stay with me baby..." When he was sure the engine was running smoothly, he hurried back outside, grabbing a rope from one of the crewmembers keeping the airship grounded, putting all his weight into holding it down._

_He looked towards the edge of the crater, where the team would emerge. Puffing idly on his cigarette, he looked at his watch. He gave them two more minutes. After that, he'd leave. Without Cloud, without Nanaki, without Tifa, Yuffie, Barret._

_Without Vincent._

_He wouldn't have a choice._

_Later, he would realize that he'd never been happier to see Cloud's ridiculous haircut than when it appeared over the crater rim._

_-----------_

_"It's about time your spiky ass showed up, Cloud. I was beginning to worry." He grinned at them, trying to rub warmth back into his hands as he entered the cockpit. His smile faltered, however, when he realized that one of their party wasn't present. His eyebrow raised slightly in question._

_"Where's Vincent?"_

_"He's not coming." Cloud's toneless voice was a gunshot in the silent room as the blood rushed out of Cid's face._

_"He didn't make it, Cid," Nanaki said, walking over to him and putting a paw on his arm, "he's...Vincent, he...he's dead. I'm sorry."_

_Slowly, he made his way over to his chair, sitting down on it carefully._

_"Well, if that's how it is, that's how it is. No use bitchin' about it."_

_He turned around, pressing some of the navigational buttons on the control console, not wanting them to see the tears welling in his eyes. He kept his voice steady, although the hands gripping the chair arms were white._

_"We'll head to Wutai first, drop Yuffie off at home. It'll take a couple days. Y'all go to bed, I'm sure you're fuckin' tired, but I want to hear about everything in the morning, alrigh'?" A chorus of agreements came from the assembled group, and the sound of footsteps was deafening to his ears as they left. Only once he was sure they were gone did he collapse in upon himself, covering his mouth with his hands._

_"Oh my god, Vincent, what have you done?"_

_The tears started spilling out of his eyes, his cigarette, forgotten, on the floor. Great, choking sobs burst from his mouth, and his shoulders shook with the immense force of it all._

_"He...can't be gone... goddamn it, Vin, you... can't be gone!" His fist slammed into the console, jarring more angry tears from his eyes. He wasn't surprised when Nanaki came up to him, sitting down silently next to the chair._

_"Highwind, no one here would judge you, or him. If they were to find out what was going on between you and Vincent, they wouldn't judge you. They'd let you mourn him. You don't have to hide this."_

_"He...Vincent...didn't want them to know. So, they won't know. It's...as simple as that." His voice wasn't strong anymore; it cracked heavily as the tears continued coursing down his cheeks. "Tell me, Red...tell me what happened."_

_  
"Sephiroth was...more powerful that any of us realized, I think. We were fine in the beginning, but once we started running out of supplies, well, we knew we were in trouble. Cloud and I were low on health, we'd have only been able to take a couple more hits each, and Vincent was little better off. He looked at Cloud, nodding a little. And Cloud just looked right back at him, like they'd planned it all before, somehow. The next thing I knew, Cloud was telling me to run and Vincent was calling up Galian Beast. I knew that neither Cloud nor I would survive any type of of backlash from that, so we ran. You know Vincent's transformations only last a few minutes, so we waited for twenty. Then Cloud said we were leaving. At that point, we knew Vincent wouldn't have been able to survive the release of Galian Beast. So, we came back. That's how it happened. I'm sorry I couldn't help him more, Cid."_

_Cid's fingers slid though his hair, dislodging his flight goggles from his forehead._

_"That bastard. He knew. He planned this all along. He knew what was going to happen to him. That fuckin' bastard knew."_

_His last words were punctuated by sobs, shudders once again wracking his frame._

_"You can't be sure of that-" Nanaki started, but Cid held up a hand, stopping him._

_"The hell I can't, you know Vincent! This is just the fuckin' type of shit he'd pull, you know that! I'd bet my baby and last pack of cigs that him an' Cloud had a nice cozy chat yesterday, discussing the most beneficial ways to get rid of Vin! You know they did, Nanaki, you know they did... How else would Cloud've known? Goddamn it...Vin... what the hell were you thinkin'?"_

_Gently placing his head on Cid's lap in comfort, Nanaki spoke again._

_"You know exactly what he was thinking, Cid."_

_"I know, Red... that's gotta be why my heart hurts so bad. Right here."_

_He touched his chest, tears streaming down his cheeks as his other hand stroked one of Nanaki's soft, red ears._

----------

So, you could say that Cid was doing what he'd been wanting to do all along. He was sitting on the beautiful beaches of Costa del Sol, feet in the sand, hard liquor in his hand, and everything was finally _over_.

However, once he'd met Vincent, his dreams for after the war had begun to change. He no longer though of warm water washing over his toes as the ultimate in satisfaction, but of a second warmth in his bed back in Rocket Town, wrapping his arms around the smooth chest of his lover, doing absolutely nothing while being perfectly content.

It had seemed so perfect to him, but Vincent had died in the final fight.

And Cid was left sinking his toes in the warm sand of Costa del Sol.

The shrill ringing of a PHS knocked him out of his thoughts, gaining him a few annoyed glares from the quiet couples walking hand in hand. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the little device, consulting the screen before flipping it open with a small frown.

"What, Spikey, haven't got nothin' better ta do than interrupt my goddamned vacation?"

_"I bought a plane, Cid!"_ He moved the phone away from his ear, wincing a little at the happy voice that was, most definitely, _not_ Cloud.

"Tifa, this is Cloud's phone."

_"Oh, I know, I know. But, he left it on the bar and I was too lazy to go find my own! I'm so excited, Cid, you'll just love it when you see it! It was such a reasonable price and I knew you'd help me fix it up a bit so I pounced. Can you come take a look at it?"_

"Whoa there Teef, what the fuck are you goin' on about?"

_"The ship I bought, Cid!"_ She gave an exasperated sigh before continuing. _"It reminds me of that little plane you used to have...what'd you call it? Oh yeah, the Tiny Bronco! It's just so cute and I know Cloud likes it even though he's acting angry that I bought it. You know him, always saying that I don't have enough money to be spending it on frivolous things, but I couldn't help myself..."_

"Teef."

_"I'll need you to show me how to fly it too, because you know I have no idea..."_

"Tifa."

_"I think something's missing in the engine...everytime I turn it on, this cloud of black smoke comes out of the exhaust pipe! But, I'm sure you can fix that, right?"_

"Tifa!"

_  
"What, Cid? You don't have to yell, I can hear you perfectly fine, you know!"_

"I'm on a fuckin' well-deserved vacation. I'm not ending it just to look at your goddamn plane." He pulled out a cigarette, placing it in his mouth before pulling out a match and lighting the end of it.

_"Please, Cid? I'll give you a free room for however long it takes you to fix it! You can have access to the bar! Cloud wants to see you..."_

"Don't lie ta me, Teef, it breaks my heart. Cloud's had 'nough of my ass to last him a lifetime. Can't an old man have his peace?"

_"Oh Cid, you aren't hardly any older than we are. Please come? We miss you..."_

"Fine. But, I'm only goin' ta stay for a day or two. Just long enough ta fix your goddamned ship. Then I'll be outta your hair, the both of ya."

_"Where else do you have that you can go, Cid? Back to Rocket Town to your empty house?"_

"I dunno. I was thinkin' of wanderin' back ta Nibelheim."

_"You know there's nothing left there."_

"I know. I'll see ya in a few hours, Teef."

He clicked off his PHS, replacing it in his pocket, before standing up and collecting his things, feeling a small ache in his heart at leaving behind his pretend happiness.

_'There's some folks we know, they say, "Hello, I miss you so, wish you were here"'_

----------

A/N: So, there's chapter one! Hope y'all like! And the song is called "wish you were here" by mark wills, and after this it's pretty much not going to have anything to do with the fic.

This is going to be a pretty much completely non-canon fic, with little canon-y bits in it. For instance, I know that's not how the battle with Sephiroth goes, and I know you find Cid after you go to Nibelheim, so things like that are, obviously, different.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, themes, or situations presented in Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this story. I own no rights to Square Enix.

_**Chapter 2:**_

She was pretty enough, he supposed, with her brown curly hair, pulled up in a practical hairstyle away from her face, her soft green eyes and easy smile. Her quiet southern belle accent lilted through his ears, lulling him into a sense of security, and her healing touches were light and tender.

But, she wasn't Cid.

It didn't matter that she was lightly but seriously flirtatious with him, showing her polite interest. It didn't matter that he wasn't really attached anymore. It didn't matter that every morning, when he woke up alone, his heart ached a little bit.

After the battle with Sephiroth, he'd come here, to the Snowy Village near the Northern Crater, seriously injured and freezing cold. Mel's Inn had been the perfect refuge for him. She'd taken him in, warmed his room with a fire, healed his wounds and offered soft, pleasant words of comfort.

His famous red cape was even more tattered and worn that it had been before, with burn marks added to make it even prettier, and his brass claw was tarnished and dirty, laying on his bedside table. Since he took it off so rarely, the skin on his hand and forearm was mottled and peeling, red and irritated from the scrubbing he'd given it earlier. His fingernails were soft and, after being cut initially, tore very easily.

But Mel took good care of him. She'd worked in a hospital when she was a teenager, and had very high level Restore and Sleep materia that she kept around for injured travelers. There were quite a few, she'd told him, that came by her Inn. She lived in a rather dangerous area, after all. So, she'd cured his hurts and had put him to sleep to wear off the cold. She was nice to him. More than most people he'd ever met.

When he'd told her he was at least fifty years older than her, she'd said that it didn't matter, that age had nothing to do with it when you were hurting inside like they were. She said that she'd learned how to heal scratches and scrapes, brittle nails and fatigue, hunger and thirst, but she didn't know how to cure an injured heart. Then she'd leaned down and kissed him, softly and sweetly, just like she did everything, and told him that she was here.

Come to think about it, he didn't deserve her either.

But that was hard to worry about when he were warm and safe, wrapped in blankets that no longer tore when he touched them with his left hand. He knew it wasn't right for him to indulge himself like he was, but that didn't stop him from doing so.

"_I was thinkin' about headin' down to Costa del Sol, ya know? It's so nice 'n warm down there...I can almos' feel that damn sand between my toes, gettin' in places it shouldn' go, makin' my eyes feel gritty. I love that feeling', Vin. Like you ain't got nothin' else in the word ta worry 'bout. Nothin' but the sound of the waves crashin' around, and that goddamn sand between your toes._

Had he done it? It seemed like he'd really wanted to, and Cid tended to ignore anything that got in the way of what he wanted. Vincent could close his eyes and picture the scene perfectly. The sun would be shining down, the water would be beautiful and clear, Cid would be wearing those ridiculous beach shorts that he'd seen in his closet one day, blue plaid with a Hawaiian flower print. Of course, Cid being Cid, they wouldn't _look_ ridiculous on him, but they still would be. His skin would be golden and tan from his days in the warm sun, and his hair would be sun-bleached an even brighter blond.

He wondered how long Cid would want to stay there, lazing about in the warmth and curling his toes in the sand. And where would he go when he got tired of it? Back to Rocket Town? Back to Shera, and his airships?

He'd left Cid so that the blond pilot could move on with his life, could become part of a relationship that would be good for everyone involved. He knew Cid didn't really love him, couldn't possibly love him. He was a monster, something that people looked down on, despised merely for existing. He'd long ago accepted that he would never have the things he'd once dreamed about, a family, a life unencumbered by nightmares and ghosts from his past, but he'd hoped, for a little while at least, that Cid might change that.

Of course, he'd come to his senses eventually. And when the final battle with Sephiroth had approached, he'd taken Cloud aside, intent on ending everything that needed to be over in that one final fight.

_----------_

"_You know that Sephiroth is not going to let you off easily, Cloud."_

"_I know, Vincent. He wasn't the darling of SOLDIER for no reason. He could do thousands of points worth of damage when I could do less than a hundred. The world will never be in danger from a weak man. Sephiroth is anything but."_

"_We know nothing about him. He is going to be different from the last time that you saw him, Cloud. Tell me one thing, then I shall leave you to your devices. Are you prepared to kill him?"_

_There was something in Vincent's gaze that day, something that stopped Cloud from immediately responding with the 'yes' that was right on the tip of his tongue. Something that made him stop, and think about what the stoic gunman was really asking._

_There was no judgment in the gaze, nothing to suggest anything unsavory lurking behind the words, but Cloud suspected that didn't mean it wasn't there. Sephiroth had been his obsession since he'd seen him that very first day at Shinra. Since he'd learned of his return, he'd thought of nothing but. Why would he bother if, in the end, he wouldn't be able to kill him?_

_Why would Vincent ask a question with such an obvious answer? He wasn't a stupid man, so that led Cloud to believe that he meant something other than what he really seemed to be asking._

_The crimson eyes gave nothing away, as flat and emotionless as they always were._

"_What do you mean, Vincent? Of course I am prepared. Are you still questioning my power after all this time?"_

"_No, Cloud. I am questioning your resolve. You have never had any control where Sephiroth is concerned. No matter where we went, the only thing you cared about was finding him. Could you end it, knowing that if you did you'd never be able to chase after him again? Knowing that, no matter how long you searched and questioned, you would never be able to see him again? Has that not been what you were chasing all these years? The possibility of laying your eyes on him at the end? Do not play me for a fool, Cloud. If you cannot do it, which I suspect is rather likely, I will not accept you hiding that fact from me and ruining everything._

"_I care not for this planet. Those that its lifestream has birthed have taken away everything that I once held dear. I could care less about Sephiroth running rampant. But it is time for me to repent for my sins, to do my life's one good dead in order to bargain for forgiveness. If you cannot find it in your heart to destroy Sephiroth, I will. But I need your word that you will not try to stop me."_

"_Vincent," Cloud began, "I...loved Sephiroth. He was everything to me when I had nothing else. He protected me, and I believe that he cared for me. However, Sephiroth isn't the man that he once was. He's changed. He's become some sort of monster, and he's no longer in his right mind..."_

"_I did not ask you what you thought of him, Cloud. It should be clear by now that I already suspected your feelings. What I want to know is if you are mentally capable of taking him down."_

_Cloud's eyes darkened, his gaze turning inward to find the answer to Vincent's demand._

"_I..."_

_He thought of those beautiful green eyes, that dragged him in. Those powerful arms that had once held him with such care. That long, silver hair that seemingly never got the least bit tangled. He thought of the words that he'd been told, coming out of those perfect lips, words that he'd believed implicitly. That was before everything changed, but did that really matter? It had happened, and he'd never been able to forget._

"_...no. I can't."_

"_I thought as much. Galian Beast would be powerful enough to destroy him, I think, but you know what happens if I let him out while the party is weakened. He will take us all down too. When I tell you to leave, I want you to go. The only other person in the team who would leave me like that would be Nanaki, I believe, so he should be the final party member. I'm going to give Galian Beast full control. If you are not gone, you will not survive. Do you understand me, Cloud?"_

"_Yes Vincent. I understand."_

_  
"Good. Now get out there and be the leader that everyone needs to have right now."_

_-----------_

He'd lied, of course. Galian Beast would never kill him. It wasn't stupid. If you kill the host, the parasite will likely die too. Sephiroth was gone. He'd done his part to atone. Now, there was no going back to his old life. He could never return to the mansion in Nibelheim, never stay in his room on the Highwind again, never feel the warmth of Cid's arms as they drifted off to sleep.

That part of his life was behind him.

In a way, Vincent Valentine _had_ died when he fought Sephiroth. Everything that he was, everything that he had been, was lost in that crater. No one needed him anymore. The fight to save the world had been won, he wasn't needed to fight for it. Maybe here, in this inn with this beautiful woman taking care of him, he could start over. He could forget about everything. Except Cid, of course.

He could never forget about Cid.

Some would judge him, he knew, for leaving Cid behind, but it had been for the best. Cid deserved someone better, someone who could openly care for him, provide for him and give him everything that he wanted. Cid could find that easily, if they looked past his rough countenance.

Vincent never could quite figure out why he'd taken to the abrasive pilot. He was everything that he'd always sort of looked down upon. He was vulgar and tactless, rude and obnoxiously hard working. He was demeaning to his crew members and barely tolerant of his AVALANCHE passengers. And, for some reason, every single one of the people on his ship seemed to love him to death.

It had taken a few months, sure. Vincent had been judgmental and closed-minded about the captain, and Cid had been much the same towards him. They hadn't even jumped right into a romance either, once the realized that they didn't really hate each other, nor were they even _friends_. They just began, albeit slowly, to tolerate each other.

-----------

_He stood on the lower deck of the Highwind, hair pushed out of his face by the wind, cape aflutter. It was warm on the ground below the ship, and the coast was in view, but the combination of the high altitude and the setting sun made it a rather uncomfortable place to be standing._

_But, he had to get away from the other members. These days, the only one he could stand was Nanaki. Dealing with Cloud's arrogance was trying his patience, and the fact that everyone else just seemed to be able to ignore it was slowly driving him insane. If there was one thing he absolutely hated, it was people who thought that for some reason God had made them better than the rest of the world._

_It was people like that who had ruined his life._

_The smell of cigarette smoke drifted by his nose, and he turned towards it angrily, annoyed that his peace had, once again, been interrupted. The sight of Cid Highwind did little to make him feel better. He turned away again when the pilot spoke._

"_Ya want a fuckin' cigarette, Mr. Valentine? Ya look like ya could use one."_

"_No. Thank you. I do not smoke." His voice was sharply polite, indicating that he wasn't interested in a cigarette nor conversation at that moment._

"_Well shit, neither do I," Cid said, as he casually blew smoke out of his mouth. A small smile appeared on Vincent's face, though Cid couldn't see it because he was facing away._

"_Your actions seem to indicate otherwise, Captain."_

"_Ya seem like a smart 'nough man, Mr. Valentine. Surely ya understand that looks can tend ta be a bit deceivin'." He took another puff on his cigarette. "Take me, for example. Ya might assume that, since I go through 'bout twelve of these a day, ya could safely say that I smoke. Unfortunately, ya'd be wrong. I do not 'smoke' cigarettes, I 'savor' them."_

"_Well, excuse me, Captain, but I do not 'savor' cigarettes either." Vincent said, in a rather sarcastic tone._

"_Fair 'nough."_

_They stood in comfortable silence for a while, watching the night get darker and darker around them. The air smelled fresh, like a clean summer rain and the beach gazed up at them enticingly. The wind stole most of the smoke directly from Cid's mouth, but the small bit that managed to make its way over to Vincent no longer bothered him. In fact, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he was almost starting to like the smell._

_A small cough alerted him to the fact that Cid wanted to say something._

"_Mr. Valentine...Vincent...ya shouldn' be so hard on Cloud. He's a righ' bastard, sure, but he's tryin' ta do the best he can. It's hard, bein' the leader. I gotta deal with it pilotin' this baby. People are always relyin' on ya, askin' you what they should and shouldn' do, and one wrong decision could lead ta disaster. It's tough. It's gotta be even worse for Cloud, too. He's got the whole world askin' him what ta do next."_

"_Cloud Strife is an arrogant fool, Captain Highwind." Vincent's fingers gripped the railing tighly in renewed anger at their leader._

"_Well, ta tell ya the truth, I can' rightly say that he's not. But we're all followin' him for a goddamn reason, and it's not because we don't have anythin' better ta do. He may be an ass, but he knows what he's doin. Or at least he's doin' a damn good job of pretendin' like he does. I ain't askin' ya ta like the guy, but...well...goddamn it...you're a bit scary, Vincent. When you're angry, it sorta puts everyone on the edge, ya know? I don't really want that on my ship."_

"_It is not my fault that everyone on this team except Nananki seems to believe that I am liable to jump on them at any moment and start sucking their blood. They have no reason to be scared of me. I may be angry rather often, but I am very seldom homicidal."_

"_So, wait, are ya tryin' ta tell me that you're NOT a fuckin' vampire?_

"_Certainly not!" Vincent looked outraged at the comment, but, upon seeing the amused smile on the captain's face, his anger turned to confusion. 'Is this backwater captain making fun of me?' He'd seen it before, people, friends, verbally poking at each other. It ended in laughter, happy smiles. Certainly, though, it was the first time that he'd actually experienced it._

"_Fine, Capta-...Cid. I shall try to be a bit more understanding of our dear Mr. Strife's problems."_

_Cid smiled, a grin that just about split his face in two. He brought his hand up , rubbing the back of his head._

"_Ya know, Vin, I think I just might like you."_

-----------

He smiled at the memory. After that, his sour attitude with Cid had gotten so much better, and, after a few months of being friends, they easily fell into a secret relationship.

That was another reason why he knew Cid didn't really love him. When he'd said that he wanted to keep their affair a secret, Cid hadn't protested at all. He'd almost hoped that the captain would refuse his request.

'Well, it doesn't matter anyway. He is probably sitting back on a beach chair somewhere in paradise, sinking his toes into the warm sand.'

A quiet tap on his bedroom door alerted him to the fact that someone was on the other side. Standing up, he crossed the room, subconsciously enjoying the feel of the carpet on the skin of his bare feet. He found Mel on the other side, a tray balanced expertly on her hip, and a delicious smell was emanating from the bowl resting on it.

"I brought you some soup, Vincent. I made some real tasty chicken noodle soup, but I know you don't eat meat so I heated up some of yesterday's broccoli cheddar for you." She came into the room, setting the tray down on the small bedside table, stopping to fluff the pillows a bit and smooth out a couple of nonexistent wrinkles in the duvet. "I don't think you were planning on leaving tomorrow, but just in case you were, you'd best change your plans. You probably didn't notice, what with how often you just disappear into that head of yours, but there's quite the blizzard raging outside. The path won't be open for a week or so if this keeps up."

Vincent wandered over to the window, pulling back the pale blue curtain to reveal white-out conditions outside. There was a thick layer of snow on the windowsill, indicating that opening it would be a foolish idea if he enjoyed the dry carpet, and he couldn't even see the stable anymore which stood a few hundred yards away from the inn.

"The last blizzard that we had like this was the one you arrived during, a few weeks ago. It's a tough time for an inn-owner. No one gets to leave, no one new can come. You end up getting pretty bad cabin fever by the end of it."

She looked at him, his back still to her as he looked out the window.

"Now, not that I don't like having you here Vincent, but have you decided when you're gonna leave? You've been here almost a whole month. Don't you have people waiting for you? People who'll come looking when you don't come back?"

He looked back at her, crimson eyes considerate, although for different reasons that she probably suspected.

"I...have no one. It...I just don't have anywhere else to go, Mel. If you do not want me here, I can leave once the blizzard calms, but I shall have to think for awhile about where I desire to go. There are very few places on Gaia, Mel, where your past will not follow you."

"I know Vincent. Stay here as long as you like, I've got plenty of rooms for other guests. Especially now. During the winter, no one wants to come up here. The path's usually blocked off with snow. The spring might be a different story, but for now, stay here just as long as you need to."

"Thank you, Mel. I think I will."

Well, there you go! Chapter two! I'm sure all my sharp little readers had already realized that Vinnie wasn't dead, but just in case, there's your proof! Silly Vinnie. Anyway, sorry this took an extra week to get out, but I had to rewrite the first bit over and over because it kept coming out wrong.

Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review!


	3. Chapter 3

If there was one thing on Gaia that Cid would say he loved more than life itself, it would be his airship. From the first time he'd seen her, it had been uncomplicated love. Never had he ever felt a pleasure similar to the feeling of running his hands along her railings and feeling her sweet hum run through his ears. When everything in his life seemed so complicated, he could always find comfort in knowing that he could still make his airship happy.

He called it his baby because, quite simply, it was.

Never, _never_, in all his year of owning the beautiful machine, of running it with an iron fist, of making sure that the crewmembers that he hired on were only the best, had he _ever_ felt lonely on his ship. Never, that is, until that lousy, good-for-nothing, gun-loving, bastard had gone and gotten himself killed. Now, no matter what he was doing, he always felt alone.

He'd never lost anyone whom he loved before, not really. His grandparents had either died when he was still very young or before he'd even been born, and his parents were still alive and kicking on their chocobo farm in the Eastern Continent. Everywhere he looked, he expected to see that familiar head of silky, black hair, and he expected every room he entered to be filled with Vincent's sarcastic laughter. He expected his bed to be warm each morning when he reached over, and he expected Vincent's stoic face to greet him.

Every time, he was sorely disappointed.

If his crew members found it odd that he'd recently moved to one of the larger guest bedrooms, foregoing the Captain's Quarters, they didn't say anything. And if the cook thought it a bit strange that their previously carnivorous pilot never requested anything that wasn't vegetarian, he kept his thoughts to himself. Did they know what had happened? Probably not, but the fact that their captain was no longer the happy man that they'd signed on with failed to escape their notice.

"Cap'n, the engine room check's complete. Everything seems to be in tip top shape." The ship's main engineer saluted briefly, standing at attention next to Cid's chair.

"Good. We'll be landin' soon, I should think. Midgar's on the horizon." They both looked over as the cockpit door opened again, revealing another, similarly dressed crewmember.

"The landing gear's ready for arrival, Captain. We performed a test run and everything's in working order."

"Alright." Raising his voice, he announced to the crew in the cockpit, "Ready for landing in ten minutes!"

The men milling about the room quickly returned to their posts, punching in coordinates and re-checking altitudes. As he looked around, Cid smiled at the group he'd become so proud of. They'd all been down on their luck, smart but living in rancor. They were reliable, he knew, because he had ways of finding out things they might not have wanted him to see. And, somehow, Cid had always been able to judge anyone's character with a single glance. It was how he'd know that Vincent hadn't been quite as cold as he'd seemed.

"Moss! Get your ass over here!" He yelled towards a girl peering over the shoulder of one of his assistant pilots. She looked up guiltily, her long, blond ponytail swinging gently around her shoulders. Her cream-colored overalls had only one of the clasps done, with the other strap hanging freely. Grease stains covered her knees and one of the sleeves on her black t-shirt had been ripped off.

"Yes, Captain Cid, Sir?"

"It's just Cid, Moss, and I want ya to land the ship. I've got things to take care of before we get there." He enjoyed her look of complete shock for a moment, waiting for her to regain her composure before standing up and gesturing to his, now vacant, chair.

"But…Cap-…Cid…Sir…you _never_ let anyone land your plane!"

"Did I say I wanted ya to fuckin' discuss it with me first? Just do it."

As he walked away, he knew his baby was in good hands by the way that Moss reverently ran her hands over the controls, as if feeling guilty for touching something so sacred.

Moss was a good kid. No one knew what her real name was, and she was the only member of his crew who's background Cid hadn't checked, but he knew she was reliable, just like the others. Of course, it wasn't that he hadn't felt like checking up, she'd just come aboard in a very unorthodox way.

-----------

"_Captain Cid! We've got a stowaway in the cargo hold, Sir!" Cid turned around, his mouth stretched into a thin line at being interrupted. Seeing his engine room crew chief, he rolled his eyes at the way he was nervously shifting from foot to foot. He was new, he just didn't understand._

"_A stowaway? Well, shit, bring him here."_

"_He's a girl, Sir..."_

"_...What?"_

"_Our stowaway is a human of the female variety, Captain."_

"_Oh...well, bring HER here then! I haven't got all day, something's off in the engine room that I gotta take a look at."_

"_I'll help, I'll help, I can fix it, let me help!" Cid raised his eyebrows at the girl bouncing excitedly up and down, seemingly unaware of the two grease-covered men holding her arms._

"_What the hell are ya on about, kid?"_

"_I can fix your engine! Better than any other half-assed, jobless engineer you could find on Gaia." Hm. People never talked to him like that...if he had to hazard a guess, he'd say that he liked this girl._

"_Pardon me, kid, if I'm less than inclined to ask ya to help. You're...what, fifteen years old? I've owned this ship almost as long as that. What the hell could you _possibly_ know about fixing my baby that I don't?_

"_I know that the clicking sound I heard from the cargo room can be fixed with a part priced at 20 gil in any supply shop." She said it in a sing-song voice, and smiled smugly when his eyes narrowed. That stupid click had been bugging him for weeks. Every time he was falling asleep he was jerked awake by that devilish sound, and he'd scoured the entire ship miserably for the source of his insomnia. Eventually, he'd just given up and had crawled back into bed, defeated, with a pillow pressed against his exposed ear._

_At the memory of his sleepless nights, the girl was awarded with the most withering scowl he could muster. It irked him a little that she seemed completely unaffected._

"_I don' need ya on my goddamn boat, kid. I've got the best people I can afford taking care of things, and what they don't know how ta fix, I do. I hope ya can get a ride somewhere from Rocket Town, cause that's where your sorry ass is gonna be dropped."_

_She shifted uncomfortably for a moment, pulling the silver ring in her lower lip into her mouth. Her happy smile returned, but Cid wondered why it looked a bit more fake than it had previously._

"_I suppose Rocket Town would be nice enough. I was hoping for somethin' by the coast, but that's alright. I've never been there before..."_

"_I guess if ya need to, we can turn around a drop ya back in Midgar if it bothers you so goddamned much. If you were planning on goin' somewhere special ya should've hopped a ship goin' there."_

_Bouncing on her toes nervously, she seemed to think for a moment, her hands clasped firmly behind her back. Her brown eyes looked up, meeting Cid's, and the other crewmembers seemed to fade into the background with the intensity of her stares._

"_If I can help you, will you let me stay?"_

-----------

So, he'd let her stay. His soft spot for people who asked for help that lay beneath his rough exterior always came back to bite him in the ass, it seemed. He hadn't needed any more mechanics on his ship, as a matter of fact he'd already hired on too many, but he'd said yes to that girl with the striking brown eyes and bouncing blond ponytail.

But, like he said before, Moss was a good kid. And, he wouldn't tell anyone, though he suspected that Vincent had known, but he'd really become quite attached to her. She'd been on his ship for almost a year now, and he guessed that she was around seventeen or so. He knew he'd never have children of his own, courtesy of his sexual preferences, and he'd almost come to view her as a sort of surrogate daughter She reminded him of himself when he'd been younger.

Not to mention that she was a disturbingly good mechanic.

She knew how to land his ship, she'd watching him do it enough times, so he trusted her not to crash it. And, on the off chance that she _did_ crash his baby, her death would be quick and painless.

He stepped out onto the deck, stuffing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. Midgar loomed below the ship, still bleak and gray even after the dissolution of Shinra. The mako reactors had stopped making energy, but that didn't mean that there weren't thousands of impoverished that lived and relied on the slums. It was why Tifa had kept her bar. She'd said that the people needed something that was familiar when their world was coming down around them.

He remembered the acrid smell of the slums, the stink of rotting garbage and the odor of death. He'd grown up in Rocket Town, sure, but he'd been to Midgar a few times, and had hated every single moment. It bothered him that Tifa seemed to have forgotten his intense dislike of the place.

His musings were interrupted, once again, by the shrill ringing of his PHS. He gave an annoyed sigh before flipping it open.

"Hold your fuckin' horses, Teef! We're gonna be there in ten goddamn minutes!"

"_That's why I'm calling, Cid! I forgot to tell ya, we couldn't find any room near the bar where the ship would be safe, so we left it at Cloud's new place. It's just a little house, but it wasn't in the city so the land was cheep. You haven't been there yet, but that's where we are so the PHS should be able to find us pretty easily. It'll only take you five minutes or so to get here."_

"Shit, Teef, why didn' you _tell_ me you weren't gonna be at the bar?"

"_I forgot! Don't give me that look, Cid, you know how my memory is...Anyway, I've got a surprise for you when you get here! I think you'll be happy!"_

"I hate surprises."

"_You'll like this one. Now, stop talking on your PHS and get your butt down here!"_

Taking the reins back away from Moss and dropping his crew off in Midgar, he changed course, heading due west, secretly excited about the surprise that awaited him.

-----------

Walking up to the walkway, he pulled out his PHS again, checking for the thousandth time that it was the right one. No matter how many times he looked, though, he couldn't bring himself to believe it. The simple fact that Cloud Strife, savior of greater Gaia and AVALANCHE's signature arrogant asshole would own a _pink house_ was simply...laughable, and pink it was. The stucco walls were covered with a pale pink color, the kind that was very popular at birthday parties for baby girls.

Knocking on the door, he had a difficult time holding in his smirk.

"Why hello, Mr. Strife. That's a very pretty color you've got on yer house there."

"...Thanks, Cid. Tifa...tifa liked it," he said with a sigh. The look on his face almost man Cid feel sorry for the man, and he patted him on the shoulder, ignoring the way that Cloud still tensed up at physical contact.

"So, where's this ship that Teef bought?"

"It's out back. I tried to stop her from buying it, but she wouldn't listen to me. I don't know if you'll be able to fix it, Cid. It's in pretty bad shape."

"Eh, don' worry, Cloud. There ain't never been a ship I haven't been able ta fix, and Moss decided ta stick around, so she can help me if it gets ta be too big. Show me around to the back, will ya?"

The moment he locked eyes on the run-down piece of junk that Tifa had the nerve to call a ship, something in his heart broke just a little.

"Oh my God...what the fuck did these people _do_ ta this poor boat, drive it through the fuckin' ocean then pour _acid_ on it?"

He was almost hyperventilating as he looked over the airship. Its outer casing was rusted through in a few places, and both the doors were missing as well as every single window. It was a standard two seater with a rather large cargo bay, but since the floor was missing, it didn't matter how big it was. Looking at the engine, it seemed to be the only thing on the entire ship that wasn't rotting somehow. Not that it worked, far from it, but at least it was somewhat salvagable.

"Fuck. I'm gonna have ta get Moss ta help me on this, and I hope you've got some spare gil, Cloud, cause I'm not making her do it for free. Where the fuck's Tifa? She needs ta explain to me what the fuck possessed her to call this ship "cute"." Cid ran a hand through his hair, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it.

"She's upstairs. Go talk to her." He sighed again, taking one last mournful look at the ship before turning around and whipping out his PHS to call Moss back on the Highwind.

"Oh, and one more thing, Cid." The pilot raised his eyebrow at Cloud, acknowledging the question.

"Yeah?"

"No smoking inside the house." He ignored the glare that Cid aimed towards him, smirking slightly as he wandered inside through the back door, the screen frame slamming behind him.

"...bastard," Cid said, taking one last drag from the wasted cigarette before tossing it into the dirt and grinding it in with his boot heel. Holding the PHS up to his ear, he smiled a little bit when he heard Moss's voice on the other end.

"_Yes, Captain Cid Sir? Is there a problem?"_

"My friend Tifa wants me to fix up this scrapper she picked up cheap. I'm gonna need some help. You up for the job?"

"_Sure thing, Captain! I'll be ready and waiting for you at that cute pink house in an hour or so!"_

"Thanks, Moss. This one's gonna be tough ta fix."

_"Roger that, Cid! ...I mean, Captain." _He rolled his eyes. It seemed like no matter how many times he told her otherwise, she couldn't shake the need to be overly formal with him.

"Cid's fine, Moss, you know that. See you in an hour."

"_Bye, Captain Cid."_

Putting the PHS back in his pocket, he entered the house through the same door that Cloud had used moments before. He found himself in what was obviously the kitchen, done out in tasteful shades of blue. The old-fashioned firewood powered stove sat in the corner, but the stainless steel refrigerator showed that there was money in this house.

To Cid, it all looked terribly expensive.

He was pleasantly surprised, though, when he entered the living room. It was cozy and warm, with comfortable couches and a few, well placed paintings. Cloud's buster sword rested against the wall, with dust collecting on the hilt. Hands behind his back, he headed upstairs.

Cloud stood on the landing, head in his hands, mumbling dejectedly about something. Cid heard yelling coming from what he assumed to be one of the bedrooms. The voice doing most of the talking sounded like Tifa. Now, he understood why Cloud was rubbing his forehead like he had one monster of a headache.

"Now you listen here! You might have helped us save the world but you _will not _get your dog hair on my bed! I will come after you with my butcher's knife, don't think I won't! Either stay off the bed or volunteer to do the laundry, it's as simple as that!"

The door opened, and a very angry looking Tifa came out, hands on her hips and her lips pressed in a thin line. Following her was one of Cid's absolute favorite people.

Nanaki had been one of the few people that Cid had bonded with from AVALANCHE. Of course, he enjoyed being around them all, except perhaps Yuffie, but he'd become incredibly attached to Nanaki within a few weeks of knowing him. There was just something about the way that he seemed to understand what needed to be done without anyone saying a single word that made Cid enjoy being in his company quite a bit.

He walked over to Nanaki, reaching his hand out to tug on one of the bright red ears, and smiled.

"What brings you here, Red?"

Nanaki grinned up at him, lifting a paw to place it on the captain's arm.

"I heard you were going to be dropping by, so I thought I'd stay for a few days and keep you company."

"I hate to say it, but I think Moss and I are going ta be hanging around for more than just a few days. Have you seen that heap of junk that Tifa says she wants me to 'fix'? The previous owners must have tested nuclear explosives in it or something."

Nanaki laughed, and all the pain, all the sadness, all the loneliness that Cid had been living with since Vincent had left him seemed to shrink. If wasn't gone, and he wasn't sure if it would _ever_ be gone, but knowing that people were there for him, even if they didn't really understand what was wrong, made him feel like he could deal with it a little better.

A few hours later, after Moss had shown up and their tools were ready to be used, Cid started work on what he was sure would be one of the most frustrating overhauls he'd ever, _ever_ have to perform.

-----------

Chapter three fair readers! Chapter three! I'm really not very happy with this chapter, because I feel like nothing really happened. I hate filler chapters, and I'm well aware that is what this is. VV I always feel like they're so dry compared to the chapters where the plot is furthered along. Anyway, the Cid/Vin reunion that I'm sure y'all are desperately waiting for will happen...I believe...at the end of the fifth chapter (offer subject to change, void where prohibited ) Anyway...

Some of you are wondering if Cloud and Tifa are an item, and, well, I'm not really going to specify. Honestly, I really dislike Tifa, and Cloud's an asshole, so I wouldn't pair either of them with _anybody_, but I suppose you can choose whether you think they should be together or not.

Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review!

Miss Alise


	4. Chapter 4

Oh my goodness, this was absolutely the hardest chapter I've ever written. It's short, and it's a filler, and I hate it, but at least it's here. I promise. Cid's chapters are SO much easier to write than Vinnie's...he's just too emo for me. VV Enjoy!...or not...

--

Vincent didn't drink, he never had. At first, he'd refrained from drink to keep his secrets safe. He'd heard stories of people becoming inebriated and spilling their deepest held thoughts to the barkeep, and such information could always be bought if the right price was offered. He wanted to keep his feelings to himself, and if keeping away from alcohol was what it took, so be it. He didn't much care for the taste anyway, except for the tang of a good white wine.

As the years passed, his reasoning became more convoluted, and he abstained merely because he couldn't be bothered not to. The guys he'd worked with would urge him to go out, to let loose, live a little, but he'd never been one for pointless indulgences.

Now, looking out the window at the small sprigs of green grass poking gently through the snow, he had a sudden urge to get quietly and slowly drunk.

Winters in Nibelheim had been something he enjoyed immensely. He loved looking out the window and seeing the fresh coat of snow sprinkled on the ground, perfect and untainted by the press of footprints. He reveled in the way that the cold air felt on his pale skin, and the way that nothing seemed alive but nothing was truly dead. It would all come back with the sunny days and soft spring air.

Knowing what he did now, that the coming of the thaw would force him to leave his haven, his small but comfortable room with its pale blue curtains, he wasn't sure how he'd ever enjoyed those gentle grass shoots.

Mel hadn't said anything, of course, but he knew she wanted him to leave. She'd said that he could stay as long as he'd wanted to in the winter, but now it was spring and she would be getting customers that could actually afford to pay for that comfortable room he'd come to rely on.

He'd come out of the crater with nothing but the clothes draped across his body, and that terrible metal claw attached to his arm. No gil, no potions, no materia, nothing. Maybe Mel had sensed a kindred spirit in him. Whatever the reason, he'd officially outstayed the comfort it had afforded him.

That was why, while he was contemplating the idea of getting ragingly drunk, he was packing a bag with the small amount of belongings he'd collected. Mostly they were things that Mel had given to him, like a pair of hand knitted gloves that she'd insisted he have when he'd gone outside to fix the roof in the middle of a snowstorm, or a small silver crucifix she'd made him wear, insisting that it might keep his vampiric tendencies at bay. She'd smirked at him, her eyes full of mischief, and slipped it around his neck smoothly

i _"There. It never hurts to be protected, Vincent." /i _

He smiled at the memory as he slid the necklace into the bag sitting on his coverlet. She didn't know he was leaving, but they'd both known it would happen sooner rather than later. He only hoped that she didn't cry; he'd always had a hard time comforting those in pain.

He didn't really have a destination in mind, nor did he have any particular place where he _i could /i_ go. He couldn't possibly return to the mansion, if it was even still there. He'd be easily recognized, and dead people didn't go back home. For a while, he'd been considering Kalm. The beach was nearby, and he'd never actually been there, so it would be unlikely that anyone would recognize him. The only problem would be getting there. The easiest way, according to those who cared enough to say, would be to take an airship, but Cid knew all of the other pilots very well. All it would take was one slip of their tongue, and his death would be ruined.

In the months that he'd been sequestered at the inn, he'd often wondered whether he'd done the right thing. After all, faking suicide seemed to be an awfully ostentatious way of ridding yourself of a lover, especially one whom you still loved. Was he a fool for throwing it away? He would remember Cid's face, or the smell that was uniquely him, a mixture of cigarette smoke and oil, and his heart would ache for what he'd lost.

What he wouldn't give to see The Highwind again, gliding gently through the air, its pilot expertly manning the helm.

Maybe, one day, he could go back. He could find Cid, and tell him that everything Vincent had done, he'd done for him. He would explain that there had been no other way, and he would look at the new life Cid had made and be happy for what he'd done.

i_ Did_ /i that make him a fool?

Since Vincent Valentine had never been a stupid man, he supposed so.

He hitched his bag over his shoulder, and cast one last cursory glance around the room to look for anything he might have left. Opening the door, he shut off the overhead light before stepping out into the hallway and gently shutting it behind him. He turned when he heard a soft noise behind him, and saw Mel standing there, that ever-present tray balanced on her hip.

"So, you're leaving then."

Her face was resigned, neither sad nor bitter like he had somehow been expecting. As he tried to gage her reaction, his gaze met hers and a touch of regret tinged her features, but other than that, she didn't seem all that distressed about the news.

"Yes. It is time for me to go. I have been a burden on you long enough, Mel." She sighed, and put the tray down on the ground, bringing her hand up to touch his shoulder briefly, then raising it to cup his cheek.

"Oh, Vincent, ya know you'd never be a burden here..."

"Regardless, it is time."

As she turned around to pick up the tray again, she stood there for a moment, silently.

"You know, Vincent, ever since you can here, parking yourself on my doorstep what seems like so long ago, there was something about you that felt a bit strange. I wondered why someone as handsome and obviously educated as you would be in such a backwater place, beaten and bloody with nothing but that awful brass claw to your name.

"But, underneath your coldness, you turned out to be kind and unsure, and I found that I didn't care about your past anymore. I didn't want to know how you'd gotten here because it didn't matter. The only thing that was important was the fact that you i _were_ /i here. I came to dread the coming of the day when your past would catch up with you, and you'd leave this place. I fell in love with you, Vincent, just a little. Just enough that my heart would jump when you came into the room, and I'd think about you sometimes when my mind should've been at rest. I hope you'll come visit me every once in a while; I'd like to feel this way again."

Vincent looked at her back, shocked into speechlessness from her words. Why would Mel lie to him like this? What was the purpose of telling him such a thing? Unless...she...wasn't lying? Was it possible that she really i _did_ /i ...love...feel that way about him? He, who had always viewed himself as something detestable, he, who looked in the mirror each morning and felt sickness welling up inside of him at what he had become.

"You cannot possibly know what you feel after such a short time, Mel." His hand tightened on the strap of his bag as he turned away, trying to hide the flash of pain in his eyes.

"Oh don't be an ass, Vincent. I said it because I meant it, and don't you go cheapening my words. Love might be a bit fleeting sometimes, but that doesn't make it any less real. I never saw you as the arrogant type of person who would presume to know the thoughts of others, please don't start now."

"You do not understand. I used up the care and affection I was afforded when I was young. I deserve nothing more." Mel sighed, finally picking up the tray and turning around.

"Vincent, if someone wants to give you something, they won't hold it back just because you feel that you're not worth it. In the end, love is a very selfish thing. It doesn't always make the best choice, but the feelings can't be ignored. They're there, whether you welcome them or not. Now, let's go downstairs and set you up with some food for your trip."

She lightly grabbed his free hand and led him towards the kitchen.

--

He looked out across the flat plain in front of him, seeing nothing but gently waving grass for miles and miles on all sides. Though the grass looked innocent enough, he wrapped his fingers gently around the grip of the Death Penalty strapped to his hip, readying himself for battle. He pulled it out of its holster and inserted a soft pink ball of materia that Mel had given him, removing the Destruct Materia. He instantly felt the slight shock as the magic left his body, his fingers tingling as it left through their tips to recollect inside the ball.

He reached behind him, opening the black pack that was tied snugly against his back, and pulled out a bright orange carrot, its leafy greens slightly bruised from the trip but still edible. He swept his gaze across the horizon, carefully scrutinizing what seemed like every blade of grass.

'There we go...'

He quickly started walking towards a large section of grass that had strange indentations running all through it. Feeling the back of his neck begin to prickle in anticipation of a battle, he slid the Death Penalty out of its holster, holding the carrot loosely in his other hand. As the enemies appeared from the grass he leveled his weapon, his senses flaring even for such an easy battle.

After throwing the food at the bright yellow bird in the middle of the fray, he took out the three other enemies quickly, dispatching them each with a single bullet. The chocobo looked up at him, its eyes inquisitive and shy, and he walked over to it, holstering his weapon and holding out his hand for the bird to inspect.

It let out a pleased keening sound, and he reached into his bag to pull out another carrot, and the chocobo happily began munching on it. He gently stroked the feathers on its head as it ate. A happy chirping came from around the carrot, and when he tried to stop his ministrations, the bird opened one eye, giving him a half-hearted glare. With a sigh, he continued stroking it.

--

A few weeks later found Vincent riding up to the chocobo stable at the Bone Village Inn, astride the very same chocobo. His black leather bodysuit was covered in dust, and the chocobo's feathers were dull and limp. They'd ridden hard on that final day, intent on reaching their destination by nightfall.

He wearily dismounted, patting the chocobo's head happily as he led her into the stables, handing the fifty gil fee to the stable boy by the entrance.

"Thank you for getting us here so quickly today, Asako. I think we'll be leaving tomorrow, alright? I know you do not like the stables, but they will have to do for now. I can let you loose once we get to Kalm, I think." He stroked her feathers again, and she chirped tiredly before settling herself down on the fresh hay.

As he left the stables, he took a breath of the cool night air. He felt it fill his lungs with a fresh feeling, and he entered the inn, intent on finding a room then returning outside to enjoy the evening alone.

The inn was above a bar which was already filled with slightly inebriated patrons, slouching drunkenly on their stools as they raised their hands for another round. He approached the bartender as he wiped down the counter with his polishing rag.

He knew he was taking a chance staying here. The whole group had come through this way, and there was a chance that someone might recognize him, but it was the quickest way to Kalm, and they'd spent even more time in the other towns near the coast. Still, he had his cape covering as much of his face as possible, with his hair covering much of the rest. He didn't want to take any more unnecessary chances.

"Is there still a room available for the night?" His deep voice carried across to the barkeep, and the man looked up, his gaze locking with Vincent's deep red eyes.

"Sure is. It's a hundred gil a night. Take it or leave it. There ain't many other places to stay round here though."

He sighed. He knew from paying the stable boy that he had less than a hundred and fifty left. It looked like he'd be spending most of the next day fighting enemies to get enough money for a ticket overseas.

"A hundred gil will be fine. I would also like to reserve the same room, as well as a place in the stables, for tomorrow night."

"Fine. You plannin on staying around for a drink or two? Or do ya want the room right now?"

Vincent turned his eyes towards the people draped across the bar in various states of drunkenness, and shook his head.

"I will be going out for a while. I just wanted to make sure that there would be a room available for me when I return."

"It'll be here."

--

When he finally heard the distant sound of the ocean, he sighed in relief. After the long months of doing nothing, then weeks of relying solely on a chocobo, he'd forgotten how long it took to i _walk_ /i everywhere. Bone Village wasn't even particularily close to the coast, either.

But, as that first gust of icy coastal wind blew against his face, he knew it was worth it. The cold air and brutally sharp rocks were the perfect backdrop for his thoughts. Ever since he'd left Mel's inn, he'd been thinking about what she'd told him. He'd been having doubts about what he'd done, about faking his death.

He couldn't help but wonder about it. Not that there was much he could really do at that point. Even if he went back, Cid would never understand why he'd gone in the first place. His lover had always hated liars.

For a brief moment, he thought he could smell him on the brisk sea air. His brain remembered the scent of cigarettes and gin, of skin permanently stained black with the tang of grease and oil. He had to fight the urge to search for the source of it.

--


	5. Chapter 5

Captain Cid Highwind always figured he'd die on a ship. Truthfully, he couldn't imagine himself going out any other way. He spent the majority of his time on The Highwind, risking life and limb to keep it running smoothly, and on the few hours that he was grounded, he didn't really do anything dangerous.

However, he didn't intend to lose his life to Tifa's ship, even if it was sent directly from the pits of hell.

So far he'd broken a leg, lost a fingernail, burned an eyebrow off, sprained his ankle, gotten axel grease in every single cut on his body, and had gotten a papercut from a sticky note hidden underneath the captain's chair in the cockpit. That damn plane was making an incredibly valiant attempt to take him down.

"Goddamn fucking sorry ass excuse for a plane," he growled as he reached his hand deeply into the engine to feel around for the screwdriver he'd dropped. He'd be lucky if it hadn't already been eaten by the ships's insatiable appetite.

"You need any help, Captain? You look like you're having a little trouble..." Moss came around the side of the pink, stucco covered house, carrying a bottle of ginger ale and a hammer. Her hair was tied back in a tight braid rather than her usual high ponytail, but her happy expression was the same as it always was.

Cid looked up, a scowl on his face as he took in her untroubled countenance.

"I don't need help. What I need is to send this God forsaken hunk of metal to the fuckin' scrap heap."

She smiled pityingly at him, patting his shoulder briefly before putting the ginger ale on the ground next to his feet.

"I brought you out some of Tifa's homemade ginger ale. I know you'd much rather have something with a bit more bite, but I figured after the leg incident last time, it probably wasn't a good idea."

Walking around the front of the ship, she cast a critical eye over it. She'd had no concerns about Cid's ability to fix the ship, but even she was surprised by how nicely it had come together.

He'd replaced the frame and body that had rusted through, and the engine had been completely stripped down and systematically put back together. The interior had been fixed, even though much of that had been done by Tifa, to be frank, and it looked like a nice, gently used ship model. It was amazing.

Of course, she'd helped quite a bit. Her mechanical knowledge was unmatched by anyone else on The Highwind save for the Captain himself, and she'd had to employ most of it on this project. That didn't change the fact that Cid had shown her just how much farther she still had to go to be the best.

The sheer amount of mechanical skill he'd shown had blown her away on more than one occasion, and she'd learned, although she had suspected so before, that beneath his chain-smoking and his excessively crude behavior, there was someone who she had so much fun being around that some days she couldn't even understand it.

However, she'd also noticed that Cid wasn't exactly the same as he'd been before.

Of course she knew about Vincent. She'd been working on The Highwind since before AVALANCHE had even been a small blip on its radar. She could remember the very first day that she'd seen that strange man aboard Cid's ship, with his full-body leather and piercing red eyes, because that sort of man tended to make an impression on a woman.

She'd spoken to him a few times, had quietly admired his deep and soothing voice. He had a slow way of talking that, instead of making him sound dull and stupid, seemed to indicate that he spent quite a bit of time considering each word before he allowed it to be spoken.

She had enjoyed his presence on the ship, and had truthfully developed quite an attraction towards him in the first few weeks. It didn't take long, though, for her to realize that she wouldn't have much of a chance with the gunman. She supposed that Cid deserved him more anyway.

Had she been asked, she wouldn't have been able to say whether the rest of the crew had known of the relationship or not, though she probably would have been inclined to say 'no'. Cid and Vincent had hidden it well.

Then Vincent had died, and Cid looked like he'd just suffered the unfortunate loss of a rather distant friend. Moss wasn't sure that she really understood why he'd done it. Though she was a simple person, with little education and barely more life experience, it seemed to her that if you loved someone who died, you were somewhat entitled to a mourning period. But, as she knew, she was a simple person, and probably just didn't understand.

However, her simplicity didn't stop her from noticing the sad look on her captain's face from time to time.

"You've sure done good work on this boat, Captain. I can't even recognize it. Tifa'll be lucky to get something this nice out of that piece of crap she bought a couple of weeks ago."

Cid snorted and then mumbled something undecipherable before diving back into the engine.

"What was that, Captain? I didn't quite understand what you said..." 

His hand appeared, snatching the ginger ale from the ground, and he took a heavy drink from the bottle.

"I said, Tifa ain't gettin' this fucking ship, Moss."

She blinked her eyes at him a few times in confusion, bringing a hand up to push her bangs out of her eyes.

"I'm not sure I understand."

"What the hell's there to understand? I said Tifa won't be gettin' this ship, and she ain't gonna. I miss my Tiny Bronco. So, I'm paying her twice what she payed for it, and we're gonna call it even. Can you figure that out in that thick head of yours?"

He put the bottle down, now empty, and leaned back against the plane.

"I suppose," she said.

"Good. Now, go away. I aim to finish this today and I can't with you talking all over the place."

_-----------_

She smiled a small, knowing smile, and turned around to open the screen door which had closed behind her. She knew that Cid had been done with that ship for a couple of days at least. He was just admiring his work, walking around it and poking at it just to hear it purr. It was his way of showing that he was proud of what he'd done.

"Hey, Tifa, I think the Captain and I are going to be heading out tomorrow. Did he tell you?" Tifa, standing at the sink, holding onto a glass and running a dishcloth around the rim, turned around at the sound and gently smiled.

"No, but I figured you'd be leaving sometime soon. That plane's been finished for a couple of days now. Do you know where Cid plans on taking the Highwind after this? He said something about visiting Nibelheim, but I really hope you can talk him out of it. There're nothing but bad memories there for all of us. It's where Cloud and I were born, and poor Vincent was holed up in that mansion there for fifty goddamn years. I don't know why he'd want to go back there. I don't understand."

Of course, Moss understood. Maybe he wanted closure, maybe he wanted to somehow keep Vincent's memory stuck in his mind, but regardless he wanted to go back to think about his dead lover. It was the first thing he'd done in months that made any type of sense to her.

"I can't say as I'd know why he'd want to go there, but I'm sure he won't listen to me if his mind's made up. Besides, I'm a freeloader on his ship, it wouldn't be my place to tell him."

Tifa sighed, placing the glass in the cupboard.

"I worry about him sometimes, that's all." She seemed to take a deep breath, closing her eyes and frowning lightly. When she opened her eyes again, they were once again bright and unconcerned. "Do you know if Nanaki's coming with you?"

"No. You know how strange Captain is about telling people things they ought to be informed of."

They both smirked a little at the thought.

"I suppose. Would you like to help with dinner? Since it's your last one here, I figured I might make it special."

--

Cid wiped his brow, looking at the ship in front of him. He had to admit, it was quite possibly one of the best things he'd ever done. He knew he could sell it for quite a bit more than he'd be paying Tifa for it, but he had other plans. Most people didn't know it, but he had quite a bit of money put away; he didn't need to sell his masterpiece to keep his belly full and the Highwind running.

He'd bought a few, well researched, stocks, and was slowly collecting interest on them. Not to mention that he didn't really purchase too much anyway, just enough to keep his ship in the best shape she could be. No, he didn't really need to sell the small ship.

He turned around at the sound of the screen door slamming, and smiled when he saw who was coming to speak to him.

"How's it goin', Red? Have ya come out to admire my masterpiece?" He moved his arm in a wide sweep, as if showcasing his work.

"While I admit that it is barely recognizable, that's not why I'm out here. I was thinking that, perhaps, I might make use of your transportation service. I'd like to go to Kalm. I realize that it's not very far, but I have some things I need to take care of there. Besides that, I hate to see you go. All the time you've spent here has been working on this plane. I've missed you while you've been gone, Cid."

Nanaki padded over to the ship, sitting down next to it, his tail swaying gently in the air.

"A lot has happened since we last had the chance to talk like this. Are you alright? Did your time in Costa del Sol help to clear your head a little bit?"

Cid looked away, smiling sadly at the beautiful colors tinting the horizon with the retiring sun.

"What the hell do ya think, Red? All that time, with nothin' to do but think and brood over everythin'? All it did was make me think about how much I miss 'im, how much I would rather be anywhere but there, if it meant bein' with him again. I'm...I'm sad without him, Red. I'll think of things, things that he'd want to know, and I turn around to tell him, but he's not there anymore. And he's not just gone, he's _dead_. I can't get over it. It's like...what's even the point, anymore? Without him, everythin' that I'd become meant nothin'. What's the point?"

Nanaki sighed, walking away from the house and looking out over the wide expanse of plains between them and the distant city of Midgar.

"I remember you telling me, once, that you hated Midgar. That every time you went there, you felt like you lost a little bit more of yourself. Yet, the moment one of your friends calls and asks you to come there, not just for a visit, but to spend weeks fixing up her plane, you left your vacation to go there. You left that very same vacation that you'd been looking forward to for years to go to that very same city that you've hated your entire life. You do things like that all the time. You're always doing things for other people. Vincent knew that. It was probably what drew him to you in the first place, but it's also likely that's what ended up pushing him away."

At Cid's look of confusion, Nanaki continued.

"You know that Vincent has always had problems with his self-worth. Because of what happened with Hojo and Lucrecia, he's always had issues with himself. You know, as well as I know, that Vincent sacrificed himself the way he did so you could have the chance with someone he would have deemed 'better'."

Cid cut in, his voice clear yet obviously confused.

"But I _loved_ him, Red! How could he possibly think I didn't?" He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated breath.

"I'm sorry, Cid, but it honestly doesn't matter that much anymore. He's gone now, Cid. You're the one left. You need to find a way to pull yourself back together. You can't hide from your grief forever. Now that you're done here, go wherever you need to go, somewhere that you might be able to find some closure."

"What the fuck do you know, Red? It rips out my heart to wake up without him! Everywhere I look I expect to see him but he's never there. I don't want closure, I just want Vincent back. I don't want to get over him."

Nanaki sent a sympathetic look towards Cid, placing his paw on his arm.

"Death is final, Cid. After death, there is nothing. We go back to the lifestream. After death, we cease to exist as an individual entity. Cid, you need to decide. You can live the rest of your life alone, waiting for someone that can't come back, or you can move on. You'll never find someone like Vincent Valentine again, but you might be able to find someone who made you happy."

"I can't think about that right now, Red. It's too soon to think about something like that."

With another sigh, Nanaki nodded.

"Of course."

_----------- _

Kalm was a pleasant enough city, though in Cid's opinion there wasn't enough going on. The people who wandered the streets were quiet and reserved, and it was so out of the way that there wasn't much of a tourist trade to speak of. When people wanted to cross the seas, they usually shipped directly out of Midgar. Consequently, that meant that Cid didn't really know anyone there.

So, while Nanaki was finishing his 'business' there, he sat around on the Highwind, doing anything he possibly could to take his mind of what he should have been thinking about.

A polite cough interrupted his maintenance on the engine, and he slid out from underneath it, wrench in hand, oil smeared across his forehead.

"Captain Cid?" He lifted up his goggles and saw Moss standing there, her lip ring between her lips like it always was when she was nervous.

"What, Moss? You got somethin' on your mind?"

She shuffled her feet nervously, twirling a strand of her blond hair around her finger.

"I...I have a favor to ask. If it's not too much trouble."

He raised an eyebrow at her, suddenly curious.

"Well, you see, there's something I've been meaning to tell you, ever since Nanaki told you he wanted to come to Kalm. I know I should've let you know when I first started working for you but...well...I was having such a good time, and I didn't want you to make me leave."

Now he was really curious. He'd never suspected anything amiss with Moss, and she was acting like she'd been hiding some big, dark secret.

"Kalm is my hometown. I was born here, in the big yellow house on the outskirts of town."

She didn't see his surprised expression, because she refused to look at him.

"I grew up with my mother and father in that same big house. I had two sisters, one younger, and one older than me. My father was the local mechanic. He'd entered into an apprenticeship with Derek Forster, the world renowned engineer in Midgar, and he taught me everything he knew. I loved my father very, very much."

She turned towards him, and he was shocked to see her normally exuberant eyes were filled with tears.

"A few months before I joined your crew, my father died. He was diagnosed with fast acting cancer, and was dead a month after he'd gone to see Doctor Stein about painful headaches. My mother had...never really like me much. She thought that a lady should be proper, should learn how to dance, should worry about boys and makeup. She hated the fact that my father had turned me into such a tomboy. That's what she said, anyway."

She slid down the wall, stretching her legs out in front of her, caring nothing about the grease that was, even then, covering the butt of her pants.

"I was passionate about fixing things. You know that, Captain. You've seen what I can do, and I'm not so blind that I don't see that I can do good things. It was what I wanted to do with my life. I was lucky. Neither of my sisters, and none of the few friends that I had, knew what their passion was. Unfortunately, my mother forbid me to do it. So, I left. It's as simple as that. I was young, but I was talented. I knew I could find work if I left the city. Then, I heard about you, and knew that I would do anything in my power to be able to become your apprentice.

"So, I'd like to ask you. Can I have your permission to visit my family?"

He was confused by her question. She knew that whenever they stopped off in a city, each member of the crew was allowed to do as they pleased, as long as they were back by the time that the Highwind was scheduled to leave.

"Of course you can. You should know that."

She looked anxiously towards him, once again biting her lip.

"I guess, what I'm really asking is, will you come with me to visit my family? If you're not with me, it's very likely that I won't be coming back. And...I really...like it here."

He wasn't really sure why he hesitated for that brief moment before saying yes, but seeing her crestfallen face erased any doubt he had. He needed this kid too much to let her go because he didn't feel like facing the world.

"I guess I might be able ta figure somethin' like that into my schedule. You plannin' on going today?"

She looked so happy at that moment that he knew he was a fool for thinking about saying no.

_-----------_

After meeting Moss' family, he realized exactly how lucky he was that his parents had accepted everything he'd wanted to do with his life. The temptation to stand up and yell at Moss' mother for not realizing what a wonderful daughter she'd had was almost overwhelming. As it was, he'd told Moss that they needed to leave.

As they neared the ship, he rubbed his forehead, gently trying to dislodge the headache that had begun to form.

"Go back to the ship, Moss. I do believe it's time for me to have a drink."

As he headed into town, attempting to locate the bar, he didn't really notice the fact that, like most other bars on Gaia, this one held an inn above it.

_----------- _

Well, there you go. After what, a little over a month (smacks self) without updating, I come out with...THIS! Dum dum dundum! I know I said the reunion would come this chapter, but I felt like I didn't want to end it in a cliffhanger, so I just stopped it here. I'm so sorry for the delay, and I can't promise it won't happen again, but I swear that I won't abandon this fic.

As always, thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing about this story except the plot-line. All characters, including Vincent Valentine and Cid Highwind, belong to Square Enix.

-----------

Vincent stepped off the ship, stretching to remove the kinks in his back. He took Asako's reins from one of the attendants, patting her softly on the beak before mounting her and urging her towards Kalm.

On chocobo-back, the journey took less that a half hour, but it was a beautiful one. The plains on this side of the ocean were so much more green, more vibrant and alive, than those situated nearer to Nibelheim. Asako seemed to like it as well, going at a slower pace and taking in her surroundings, as if she liked the way it felt to walk through the fresh grass.

As Kalm appeared on the horizon, he couldn't help but allow a small smile to grace his lips. It looked like it was just the place he'd been looking for. It had a peaceful feel to it, and a quietness that he hadn't seen in the other towns he'd been through. He realized suddenly that there must have been a reason why the founders had decided to call it 'Kalm'.

They reached the inn as the sun was setting gently below the horizon, and it cast a beautiful glow over the land. The ocean glittered in the far distance, and Vincent thought that he'd never seen anything that he liked quite as much.

Except, of course, Cid.

He dismounted Asako, gently stroking her feathers before firmly removing her saddle and bridle.

"You can go now, if you feel like it. If I need you, I'll call, but you don't have to come back."

She cocked her head to the side, letting out a small confused cheep. He laughed to himself, wondering when he'd become the kind of man that would bother talking to and reassuring a chocobo. She probably had no idea what he was talking about anyway.

He walked around her, and smacked her flank, causing her to jump forward a little bit, and she looked back towards him as she plodded a few steps. He pushed her again, and she walked a little more, not stopping this time. With one last look behind her, she continued down the dirt walkway.

Sighing a little at her departure, he turned around, surveying the inn that he planned on staying in. It looked nice enough, gleaming brightly with the setting sun, but he was worried that he might not be able to afford the price. He'd spent all but his last fifty gil buying boat passage for him and his chocobo.

The bell above the door rang when he opened it, and he was surprised to see how empty it was. The barkeep was standing behind it, wiping off glasses with a rag, talking to the only other man in the bar who appeared to be drinking...milk. It was odd, this was the first bar that Vincent had ever been to that looked quite this dead.

"Somethin' I can do for you, Sir?" The barkeep had looked up from his conversation and spoken, still polishing the glass.

"Yes. I would like to inquire about your nightly room rates. I need a place to stay for a while." Vincent's deep voice floated out from behind his collar, and the other man looked up, towards him, as well. Even without his metal claw, Vincent Valentine was still someone that made people sit up and take notice.

"Seventy five a night. Four seventy five if you stay a whole week."

He didn't lose eye contact with Vincent, merely putting down the glass.

"Alright. Please, keep a room open for me. I'll return later."

With that, he left the bar, just as suddenly as he'd entered.

-----------

The hair on the back of his neck began to stand up, and that electric feeling started to collect in his belly. It was always the sign of an impending battle, and he quickly removed The Death Penalty from its holster around his thigh. He'd come back out to the plains with the intent of collecting enough gil from a few fights.

He spun the chamber of his revolver around, checking to make sure that it was fully loaded, and removed the Chocobo Lure that he'd placed in the materia slot to lure Asako. In its place, he put the most powerful materia he had: his fire materia.

He heard a sound behind him that meant an approaching enemy, and he quickly whirled around, prepared for anything but what he saw.

The creature that reared up before him was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Standing tall and wide, thick, black wings sprouted from it's back in four places, and it's leathery hide gleamed blood red in the twilight. It looked skeletal in structure, like its flesh had been eaten away leaving the skin behind, and its empty eye sockets stared at him like deep, black pits. Between powerful looking jaws stood rows of sharp teeth, and six piercing claws jutted out from each atrophied hand.

It was a gruesome beast, and, though Vincent had never fought in this area before, he assumed it wasn't supposed to be there.

His blood began rushing through his veins, and he leveled The Death Penalty towards it, aiming straight between its soulless eyes. He allowed himself a small smile, reveling in the feel of battle signing through his brain.

His smile didn't fade, even when his bullet pierced the beast's skull, but it still continued to stare fiercely at him. With a great lunging step, it started forward, making a wipe swipe towards Vincent with its vicious claws. Dodging it, Vincent emptied his magazine into the beast's side, aiming for its heart with pinpoint accuracy.

The force of the bullets easily tore through the delicate skin, and Vincent's eyes widened at what he saw through the gaping hole The heart that he'd so painstakingly aimed for wasn't there. There was nothing inside, at all.

He ducked out of the way, hastily slamming another magazine into the chamber of his revolver, keeping both eyes on the monster in front of him. It was gaining speed, as if this battle was the first time it'd had the opportunity to make use of its legs.

"What the hell _are _you, you poor creature?"

Even as he said it, he felt the familiar stirrings at the back of his mind, the whispers, the urges. He could taste the blood lust in his mouth, filling his head, taking over his thoughts.

_'I can kill him, pet." _

Even trying with everything in him, he could feel the beasts within him taking over, and the last thing he knew before blackness was that disgusting being towering over him.

-----------

Cid looked up from his whiskey as someone burst into the bar, startling the other patrons as well. The man paid them no heed, though, hurrying up to the bar and furiously whispering to the barkeep. Cid only caught brief clips of their conversation, like "weird power" and "burst of light", but it was enough to make him curious. The barkeeps voice rose when he yelled to a boy busing tables to get a room ready.

The door opened again, and two other men entered the bar, carrying a body between them. Even in his semi-inebriated state, it took Cid less than a single look to recognize who it was they were carrying.

His chair clattered to the floor as he stood, but it didn't even register in his awareness. His entire being was focused on the unconscious man before him, with jet black hair and a blood red cape that looked much the worse for wear.

He whispered the name from his lips, as if it were a precious word, too special to say loudly.

"...Vincent..."

He burst out of his reverie, and suddenly the world seemed to speed up again, and these men were taking Vincent away from him.

"Stop! Wait..." He ran over to them, taking the body of his lover gently from their arms. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the condition of Vincent's body. He was covered in scratches, and a huge gash had been opened across his abdomen. There was a jagged cut along his forehead, bleeding sluggishly.

At the questioning looks he received from the men who'd carried Vincent in, he met their eyes with his pleading ones.

"I'll take him with me, to my ship. He's in my party."

Vincent's eyes were closed, but Cid could feel a pulse fluttering beneath his fingertips. Lifting him up, he didn't even notice how heavy Vincent felt in his arms, so shocked he was to see him again, to see his alive. The brass claw was gone; his hands were covered, instead, with black leather gloves.

"My God, Vincent...what the hell happened to you?"

The bar patrons were looking at him curiously, no doubt interested in the situation because they hadn't witnessed one like it before.

He stood up, clutching his reborn loved in his arms. He couldn't claim that the weight was a familiar one because he hadn't had many opportunities to carry Vincent, and he couldn't say that he was happy, or relived, or angry. He was a simple man, and the only word he'd ever heard that could describe how he felt was...numb. He readjusted the body carefully against his chest and pulled his PHS out of his barely-accessible pocket.

Moss' voice came on the line, sounding slightly exasperated.

_'Do you need me to come and get you, Captain?'_

Even through the phone, he could hear the smirk on her face; she'd had to save him from his own drunkenness quite a few times. Even more often since the accident.

"No, Moss. I need you to prepare the medical room for an occupant. Tell Nanaki to get his Cure materia ready. We've got a situation, and we're going to need it."

-----------

The first thing Vincent was aware of was darkness. Pitch black darkness invaded every one of his senses, surrounding him. A voice penetrated the haze, softly whispering to him. Though sinister, the voice was oddly comforting.

_"You're lucky you've got us, pet, or you would've been ripped apart."_

Chaos. The entity in the back of his consciousness had saved him. That much was clear to Vincent. It was also clear why; it was for the same reasons that Galian Beast would never kill him during a fight. With the host, dies the parasite.

That thing, though...that monster that he'd fought. Chaos was right, without his demons, he wouldn't have had a chance in hell against it. It hadn't had any weaknesses, it seemed. There was nothing to injure, it didn't feel pain. How could something without lungs breathe? Was it possible for something without a brain to walk? The answers seemed obvious, now, but they seemed impossible.

He had to tell someone. Someone had to be told that there was a new threat on Gaia.

----------

Vincent opened his eyes, only to squeeze them shut against the bright light filling the room. He felt subtle vibrations beneath him, gently humming through his body. He felt content, more than he could remember feeling in a long time.

When he felt a jarring pain cut through his forehead, he realized that he, in fact, hadn't gotten out of the fight with the monster unscathed. Deciding that it would be best to figure out what was wrong with him before alerting the outside world to his wakefulness, he began to take stock of his body.

First, he gently flexed his fingers, feeling only a slight pain. Moving onto his arms, he discovered that one of them appeared to be fine, while the other was immobile and warm, seemingly in a cast of some sort. It hurt when he took a breath, but it didn't feel like his lungs were damaged, his skin merely felt stiff. Of course, his entire body felt awful, but he'd expected that. In reality, he was just happy that he hadn't died before letting someone know what had attacked him.

He tried opening his eyes again, and found himself in a room that looked oddly familiar. Quickly stamping out the brief flood of hope that worked its way through his heart, he chided himself for being ridiculous. Any number of clinics that he'd been to in his life looked exactly like this one: blinding white walls, the smell of sterile plastics lurking everywhere.

Just because it looked exactly the same as the clinic on the Highwind didn't mean that's what it actually was.

Hearing footsteps approach from behind the door, he closed his eyes again, needing to have some idea of who had saved him before he revealed himself. The voices accompanying the footsteps were low, cautious, and, though he could hear them coming closer by the moment, he couldn't pick out anything they were saying. He made himself go limp when he heard the door open.

"...he said that we'd have to keep watch on him, make sure that his breathing stays stable and his concussion doesn't cause any more damage than it already has. That gash across his chest was really jagged, not clean like it would have been with a knife. Mr. Beaker said that it looked like it had been made from a claw, but he'd never seen one with such a long reach before."

She stopped talking, and he heard the sound of a cabinet being opened and pills sliding around inside a bottle.

"It's strange that he hasn't woken up yet, but Mr. Beaker said he couldn't find anything preventing him from regaining consciousness. It should just be a matter of time. Are you...sure you're alright? With all of this, I mean, with everything that's happened?"

Another voice entered the conversation, and Vincent's eyes instantly opened wide in shock.

"I don't fuckin' know, Moss."

Cid looked so much the same as when Vincent had last set eyes on him, that very last glance before going to meet Sephiroth. He remembered feeling so many different things from that one gaze, and it had been something that he'd thought about a lot when he'd been away.

His lovers hair was the same beautiful bleached blond, his skin, the same weathered tan. He looked thinner, almost unhealthy, and Vincent felt a pang of worry rush underneath his skin. When Cid turned around, and their eyes met for the first time in almost four months, he was stunned by just how emotionless those beautiful blue eyes had become. He knew the moment that Cid realized what he was looking at, a pair of violent red eyes rather than a sleeping face, and watched as his face contorted into some emotion that he'd never seen on it before.

"Hello, Cid."

-----------

Cid sat, with his face in his hands, at the end of the hospital bed on his ship, trying to figure out exactly how he was supposed to be feeling. Something was bubbling up inside him, aching to find a way out, but he couldn't say whether it was anger or happiness. Seeing Vincent there, looking at him with the same expression that he'd always worn, made something break inside of him.

"Where the fuck have you been, Vincent?"

Vincent took a deep breath, forcing his hysteria back into his stomach.

"I've been in the Snowy Village. Near the Northern Crater. I left once the pass reopened for the spring."

"Why were you near Kalm? You know we don't usually come this way. If you were looking for us, why didn't you go to Midgar? Or Nibelheim?"

That was really the question, the one burning at the back of Cid's consciousness. Why hadn't Vincent found them when he could? The Highwind was a well-known ship, its Captain, famous. It wouldn't have been very hard to track down.

"I was not looking for you, Cid."

And in those six words, Cid Highwind's world came crashing down around him. Everything that had held him together since Vincent's death, everything that had kept him from losing his tenuous grip on sanity was pulled out from underneath him. If Vincent hadn't been looking for him, that opened up an entirely different realm of assumptions just aching to be made.

If he hadn't been looking for him, that meant that he hadn't felt like he needed to, like he was missing anything that he couldn't find elsewhere. It meant that, even if Cid himself hadn't been able to, Vincent had moved on.

What he found to be most distressing, though, was that if he hadn't bothered looking for Cid, he sure as hell hadn't taken the time to love him.

The silence stretched on for hours, creating a palpable feeling of unease that felt its way into every single corner of the room. Cid's shocked eyes held onto Vincent's, seemingly begging for some ounce of confirmation that it had been a lie.

"You...weren't looking for me."

Vincent nodded.

"No, I was not. My life after Sephiroth was... difficult. I wasn't trying to find the Highwind. However, we have more important things to discuss right now. I need you to call the members of AVALANCHE. Something is out there, Cid, something that I have never seen before, something that defeated Chaos seemingly without even trying, it was-"

Cid shot him a look filled with such disgust that Vincent was shocked into stunned silence.

"You can tell Cloud and them when you see 'em. Don't bother tellin' me, I'm just the fuckin' pilot." With that scathing phrase feeling delightfully nonchalant on his lips, he tossed his PHS onto the bed. It bounced up and down a few times before settling into a depression, Vincent eying it with confusion.

"How am I to let them know what happened?"

Cid walked over to the door, flinging it open and stopped, his back to Vincent.

"I don't care. You're the one who needs their fuckin' help, why don't _you_ explain to them why you ain't dead."

Then, leaving all the bad feelings behind him, he slammed the door.

-----------

Vincent couldn't stop staring at the PHS on the bed. It wasn't anything special, just the standard issue, military grade device, but it seemed so sinister. A shadow fell over the bed, and he looked up to see the girl that had accompanied Cid into the room standing next to him. She looked familiar, and he supposed that he must have seen her on the ship before, maybe even spoken to her a few times, but he couldn't really remember. Her eyes were downcast, her hands clamped neatly in front of her like she was afraid to speak.

"Was there something you would like to say?"

She lifted her head, and her brown eyes looked at him curiously.

"It's not my choice to make, but I'll say it anyway. I don't want you on this ship." At his confused look, she unclasped her hands, laying them by her sides, and stood straight. "Captain Cid took me in when I had nowhere else to go. I tried to be happy, but the first few months here were tough. The guys didn't like me much, because I was a girl, but Cid made sure they weren't too hard on me. While you were wandering around getting your ass kicked, Cid was with me while I faced my family for the first time in three years. Even after all this, I had to watch when the person that he loved more than anything else, died."

She took a deep breath, but her gaze didn't waver from his face.

"And now, you're going to come right back into his life, saying that he didn't even mean enough for you to go look for him? When you were dead, at least he could hold onto the idea that you loved him, that you'd only sacrificed yourself so that the world everyone else lived in was a better place, that you still loved him but your desire to make everything right surpassed that love. That kind of thing is something Cid could understand. Doing the right thing, no matter how hard it is on you, that's what the Captain lives by.

"Well, I hope you're quite happy with yourself, Mr. Valentine, because your plan worked. Not only did you do something good for the world, you escaped Cid. Only, you didn't do it quite as well as you'd hoped. Cid might not want you gone, because he still loves every fucking thing about you, but I do. You being here will do nothing but hurt him. If the one thing I can do for him is to get you out of here, then that's what I'll do."

She crossed her arms., and pulled the ring adorning her lip into her mouth. Even after watching Vincent for the months that he'd been on the Highwind before the battle with Sephiroth, Moss had never been able to see past his emotionless mask. Now, when faced with that stoic facade, she just became more and more frustrated.

"Did you even love him at all?" she asked, with a heavy sigh.

Vincent looked down at the phone in his hand, wondering when he'd picked it up. Who was this girl? What could she possibly know about him? She was judging him, this girl from nowhere, was telling him what he should do, what he thought, what he felt.

"I love him more than anything. That is why I left him."

-----------

Well, I'm not sure that I'm happy with this chapter, seeing that it's the most important one in the story, but it DOES introduce the non-romantic point of the fic! Crazy emo monster from the pits of lifestream death! Well, we'll see where that goes...anyway, I hope you enjoyed the FASTEST UPDATE of WYWH ever!

Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review!

Edit: Phew, I went back and read this chapter and realized that, on top of all sorts of other grammatical errors, I'd called Vincent Axel instead! And, while I do love me some Axel (Kingdom Hearts II for those of you not in the know) he's not in this fic. So, this is the edited version. Sorry!


	7. Chapter 7

Two days later found the team members of AVALANCHE once again collected in the cockpit of the Highwind, looking nervous and unsure about exactly why they were there.

"Vincent, what happened?"

Cloud's arms were crossed over his chest; his buster sword had been taken out of its corner and had found its resting place across his back.

He'd been surprised that Vincent was still alive, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he should have suspected something like that from the beginning. He'd just been so relived that someone else had taken the job of sending Sephiroth back to the lifestream that he hadn't thought much about the consequences. However, with the news of his survival, Vincent had also brought news of a new threat. Cloud couldn't say that he was disappointed.

"I was attacked outside of Kalm. The beast was like nothing I have ever seen before, and without Chaos I would have died easily by its hands. It seemed to have no weak point. It had no brain, no heart, no lungs, nothing inside but bones that couldn't be broken. It was an abomination of the lifestream, something that should have been dead a long time ago. Perhaps it was. Regardless, I doubt that Chaos managed to kill it, either. That seems to indicate that it is still wandering these plains somewhere, and it is likely that there are others like it. I doubt it would the only one."

Vincent's eyes were serious as he took in the faces of the team members. For the most part, they were as he remembered them being. He'd half expected them to have aged while he'd been gone, and of course they had, but not in the way he'd expected.

The fight against Sephiroth had seemed like so long ago, to him. He'd left his life behind, had moved on, and he'd thought things might have changed a bit in his absence. Instead, they were as they'd always been, standing in the same places that they'd occupied that night so many months ago. He felt the thirst for blood begin its slow pulse through his veins at the thought.

"You're saying that it can't be killed?" Tifa asked from her position by the wall.

"I do not know. All I can tell you is that I attempted to destroy it and failed to do so. That does not necessarily mean that there is no way, merely that I could not find it."

He walked over the the table standing in the middle of the room, with a map of Gaia tacked across the surface, and gestured for the other team members to look as well.

"Now, here," he pointed to the field directly outside of Kalm, "is where I encountered it. While there are no known Lifestream fountains near that area, it _is_ near the ocean, which is as of yet unexplored. A fountain could easily have opened up beneath the water without anyone noticing."

Cloud shifted nervously, readjusting the sheath strapped to his back and coughing slightly. "So, you're saying that this...thing is from the Lifestream? That doesn't make sense, Vincent. The planet just got away from all that," he said.

"Again, I have no way of being sure. However, after all these years of, living with myself as I have become, I believe that I should be able to distinguish between a monster created by science and one born of the Lifestream."

A bitter silence seemed to fall upon the party at his words. The thought that their planet, which had always nurtured and protected the lives they cherished, would strike back at them in such a way seemed too terrible to imagine. They stood on the edge of something impossible, something that loomed over them, devastating them with its sheer presence. It was a beast that didn't have a damage ranking, or elemental weaknesses, or anything that they could use in an attempt to destroy it before it returned that favor.

"I came to Kalm originally to speak with someone who requested my input on something that had been troubling him recently," Nanaki said, standing and streching his muscles that had tightened from sitting on the floor.

"And?" Cloud asked.

"He's an expert on the biological aspects of the Lifestream, how everything is put together once it returns there after life, the different bacterias and substances that make up the mako, things like that. Recently, though, he's been noticing that there are a few anomalies in the chemical make-up of the samples he's tested. This problem is, according to the historical files that he's managed to compile, unprecedented. None of our legends tell of anything like this happening before, so I was unable to help him, but it seems unlikely that it's not connected to our mystery beast somehow. Whether the monster is creating the anomaly, or the anomaly is creating the monster, I couldn't even begin to fathom."

Cid swiveled around in his chair, his fingers digging roughly into the armrests, eyes gleaming with some unknown emotion.

"Well, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we're all fuckin' screwed," he stated.

Yuffie smirked from her position next to the wall, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Well said, Captain Highwind."

---

Cid paced back and forth in his room, looking at his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"It's alright. All I gotta do is stay in here for another three fuckin' hours, then I can perform my captainly duties, land the ship, and kick their sorry asses out. I don't want to deal with this anymore, I'm sick of savin' the world, I just want...aw, hell, I don't even fucking _know_ anymore."

He stopped, sitting down heavily on the bed and running his fingers through his tousled hair. He looked awful, like he hadn't slept in a week, and that wasn't too far from the truth. Ever since Vincent had said those words to him that had cut so deeply he could barely even feel the pain, he'd lain awake at night, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him for loving the asshole regardless of it.

He was holed up in his quarters, waiting desperately for the moment when his ship would be peaceful and calm and _his_ again. He wanted to be able to sleep soundly, remembering all the good things that had happened in his life, dreaming of the feeling that he got when the wind whipped past his face. Sadly, though, he didn't think that would be a possibility even after Vincent wasn't around, because he was still alive and breathing, and with that came the thought that he might find comfort in someone else's arms, and Cid couldn't stand the thought of that.

He looked up at the quiet knock on his door, intent on ignoring it. He'd made it clear that he wasn't really in the mood for visitors, at least for a couple of hours. It was no secret that he hadn't been sleeping well.

As the knock came again, slightly louder and more persistent this time, he crawled up the bed, slamming a pillow against his exposed ear.

"Whoever the hell you are, go _the fuck_ away," he growled.

A deep, resounding chuckle came from the doorway at his words, and Vincent stepped into the room completely ignoring Cid's terse request.

"If I did not know better, Cid, I would say that you did not want me here." The pilot felt the bed sink a bit, as the gunman's weight was added to the corner of the mattress that stood closest to the door.

"What the fuck, Vincent?" His voice was rough, years of chain smoking would do that to a person, but it was even more pronounced in that moment. The one person whom he had desperately hoped to avoid had invaded his sanctuary, was sitting mere feet away from him. Even so, the thought that ran through his brain was only _'Well, shit, it looks like I'll have to find another room to sleep in now.'  
_

"I...need to speak with you." Cid was a bit surprised at how unsure Vincent's voice sounded. Gone was the stoic, unreachable man that he'd once known, who had shared secret smiles and been open only with Cid, and in his place sat someone that the pilot could barely recognize. It puzzled him.

"It seems ta me that you've already said all that needed to be said, Vin. 'Scuse me for not wantin' ta hear in again."

"No, Cid. There is something that needs to be said, and I cannot, in good conscience, leave before it is done." Vincent winced beneath his collar, knowing that the only times that Cid had been angry or sharp with him happened when he was hurting and desperately trying to hide it. He knew that Cid was anxious, that he had been ever since Vincent had been brought onto the ship, but he knew he couldn't let things rest the way they were between them. He would never be satisfied with that.

"I left you on purpose, as I am sure you have already assumed." At a snort from the pilot, he took a breath, steeling himself for what he was going to say next. He had never been very good with expressing the ways he felt to other people. "However, it was not for the reasons which you probably expect. I loved you. You made me feel something other than hatred and loathing for the first time in years. When I was with you, I could feel my heart beat just a bit faster, and your easy smile made me feel as though I would do anything to stop you from ever being hurt. That was why I decided to leave you."

Cid began to speak, outraged and confused, but Vincent held up a gentle hand to silence him.

"Over the months, I wondered if it had been for the best, leaving you like that, and I had my doubts. Whenever I began to think like that, however, all I would have to do would be to remember all of the selfless things that you did, all of the times that you put everyone else's comforts before your own, those smiles that only I used to be able to bring out, my resolve strengthened. I was so far from good enough for you. My past is haunted by the things that I have done, I will never be able to escape that, but you deserved a bright future, with someone who could love you without bound. I believed that, given time, you would move on, that you would find that person. Unfortunately, with the situation how it is, my plan was derailed almost before it was put into motion, and you found out that I was still alive. Perhaps it was for the best, as now I can tell you the truth face to face. You need to move on, Cid. It is a request coming from someone who loved you, who loves you still, and who wants only the best for you because you deserve it so much." Vincent finished speaking, hands gently shaking within the folds of his cloak, but refused to look at the pilot's face, deeply afraid of what he might see there.

"That...is the biggest pile of bullshit that I have _ever_ heard, Vincent." At Cid's harsh words, the gunman looked up sharply, a strange expression crossing his face. "Did you ever even think for one fucking second about what I might actually _want_? You said you left me to save me pain, but what the fuck do you think I've been doing these last months of hell, whorin' myself out because _thank God_ finally that fuckin' annoying lover I had was gone? I would _never have been with you_ if I did not feel somethin' for you, Vin! If you were not what I felt was best for me, I would have left you. No one else's feelin's are enough of a reason for me to suffer through a relationship that I didn' _want_. I'm...fuckin' pissed that you thought I was so weak, Vincent, that I would just sit there and fuckin' _take it._ Oh, ya have no idea how much I want to smack the hell out of you righ' now."

Cid slammed his fist into the pillow next to him, his face red and his eyes filled with anger that he couldn't ever remember having felt so strongly before. What really got him, though, what made him so angry he could barely _see_ straight was that he still couldn't tell what Vincent was thinking, what he wanted to say about the whole thing. Even before, Cid hadn't been able to see past the mask that his lover had placed on himself.

"Cid, you were never able to see how much people loved you, how much the looked up to you and admired you for everything that you were. I did not deserve you-"

"Oh, hell, Vincent, fuck that. If you love somethin', you have ta let it go, right?_ Hell_ no. If you love somethin', you gotta fuckin' _fight for it_. Without you around, Vin, I couldn't even function right. Everywhere I went, everything I did, it all remined me of you and I couldn't take it anymore. When Cloud and Tifa offered me a chance to get off this ship, I took it without a second thought, because I couldn't stand to be around the memory of you anymore. You were everything that I ever wanted. I couldn't have _asked_ for someone better."

Angry tears made gentle tracks down Cid's tanned face, and he ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up on end as it always used to do.

"The thought of you dyin', all alone, with nothin' but your beasts to watch you die, tore me apart. How many times did I wish that it coulda been me that had fought that battle instead, knowin' that I wouldn'ta been able ta take down Sephiroth but at least we'd both still be alive. If I'd known that you were still out there somewhere, I wouldn't have stopped until I'd found ya, because after you were gone I realized that there'd never be another person like you in my whole life, that you were special and I was so lucky that you'd been _mine_, if only for a little while. That little while was enough for me to understand how much you meant ta me. How could ya fuckin'_ think_ that leavin' me was for the best, Vin? How could ya ever think that? Fuck..."

Repeatedly punching the pillow to let out his frustration, Cid let out a helpless sound, something between a sigh and a scream, cringing away when he felt arms wrap around him. It was too much. Everything that Vincent had told him was warring with the ideas that he'd formed all those months ago, as well as the new thoughts that had entered his head upon the gunman's unexpected return. Not to mention that having Vincent's arms wrapped around him again seemed to take away much of his capacity for rational thought.

"Cid...I only...I only did what I thought would be best in the long run. I have so many things that I cannot give you, so many things that I _refuse _to give you. Since I was removed from that basement, I have realized that I will never again be the man that I once was, complete and whole, and you deserve someone who can be more than I am..."

Though his mind was fogged and drowsy, overloaded by the emotions threatening to break through, he still recognized the irony of the gunman's words.

"Vincent, you asshole, you're _everything_. Don't you get that yet?"

Relief flooded through Vincent. Even after everything that he had done to the pilot he had been forgiven. He was hit suddenly by a huge wave of sadness at the idea that he'd left Cid the way he had, that he'd never given himself a chance to explain his reasons for leaving.

"I do not regret having done what I did, Cid. I do, however, regret that it has caused you pain. That was the last thing I wanted to come of this." He tightened his arms around the pilot's shoulders, gently inhaling the scent that he'd come to miss so much in those months that he'd been without it. His nose was filled with the smell of cigarettes, of engine grease and oil, and it comforted him more than anything else, in that moment, would have been able to. He carefully ended the embrace, gripping Cid's face softly in his hands and looking into the blue eyes that he seemed to remember so clearly.

"You're a goddamned idiot, Vin," Cid said, before bringing his lips forward, kissing the gunman for the first time in so long. It felt exactly as it once had, like a meeting of souls that were outwardly different but shared the same core. Vincent couldn't help thinking that, for once, his lover was completely right about something.

---

As the Highwind once again landed within a few miles of Kalm, the aura surrounding the collected AVALANCHE members was tense and ready. It was strange, but as much apprehension as they had for this new threat, depp down most of them could feel their veins filling with excitement, a sick sort of satisfaction that, even though Sephiroth was gone and the mako reactors had been shut down, they could still find adventure.

Their weapons had been dusted off, their materia stores had been cleared out and restocked. Before they'd reconvened on the Highwind, they'd said goodbye to their loved ones again, knowing that it was a possibility that this might be the last time they had the chance.

Knowing that they had no idea what they were up against just added fuel to their fire. These were the members of AVALANCHE, and to them it seemed as if they had been fighting forever and had no desire to stop. Only a few of them had been able to move on with their lives, had been able to forget the thrill of a good battle for the gentle pleasure of everyday monotony. Even then, the desire never really faded; those that felt it merely learned to push it into the back of their minds, ignoring it.

"Alright," Cloud sighed, looking at the people who his hopes had ridden on for what seemed like years. "We'll split into two groups of three. I'll go with Nanaki and Tifa. Barett, you go with Yuffie and Vincent. Cid, you stay here and keep the ship ready. If you encounter the enemy, attempt to locate any weaknesses. Look for a physical weakness that Vincent did not manage to discover, or any type of elemental aversion that you think might help defeat it. If you begin losing the battle, run. Come back here where Cid has the Cure materia and wait for the other group's return. Unless victory is certain, do not attempt to destroy the monster. Are we clear?"

Cloud, like his teammates, could easily feel the blood rushing through his veins at the thought of a fight. He'd been born to be a soldier, really; he'd never questioned that. The battle was more than that to him, this time, though. He thought about that final battle with Sephiroth quite often, when there was nothing else to occupy him in his big, empty house. Every time he remembered Vincent's quiet words, telling him and Nanaki to leave, a bit of guilt passed through his mind. He'd believed Vincent to be dead; he thought that, perhaps, had he not been such a coward, the gunman might have instead, lived.

Because of that thought, Cloud knew that he couldn't let this beast run free. If he had a chance, any at all, of killing it, he owed it to Vincent to do so. That way, he might be able to repay some of the debt he had garnered. In the end, even though Vincent had managed to retain his heartbeat, he had given his life to protect Cloud and the others. Were it necessary, Cloud knew that he would do the same.

---

Cid watched from the cargo bay door as the teams separated, moving in opposite directions to search for the beast. It was an odd feeling that burst through his chest as a cigarette dangled from his lips. He didn't mind being the pilot, staying behind to take care of the aftermath, not really, but it did hurt, just a little. He remembered the days when he was a part of the group, fighting alongside Cloud and the others, spear held firmly in his grip. He knew the thrill of battle as much as anyone else on the team.

Realizing that he was beginning to feel sorry for himself, he scowled, tossing the lit cigarette onto the ground and rubbing it out with his heel.

_'Fuckin' losers.' _he thought, and he went inside to wait, the Cure materia resting safely in his palm.

It was less that an hour later that both groups had returned, each bearing tales of fierce battles with unbeatable monsters.

---

well...I'm sorry that took so long. And that it's about half a page shorter than normal... in my defense my computer died (well, to be fair, I killed it) and I had to go without for three weeks. Hopefully, the next update'll be along soon!

No, Cid and Vin didn't do anything more than kiss. It's much too soon for that, I believe. Maybe in the next chapter or two.

Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: This chapter is when all of the non-canon stuff is really going to start. I know a lot of this either played out differently in the game or didn't happen at all, but, eh, that's why it's fanfiction. Pretty much the only canon fact in this thing is that Sephiroth died. :)

--

'Hmm...' The redheaded Turk tapped his electro-rod against his shoulder, his other hand resting casually against his hip. His suit hung jauntily off of his thin frame, dangerously unbuttoned as it had always been. Raising one eyebrow, he looked around the room, feeling the glares aimed at him as acutely as knives.

"I don't know why you invited me if y'all just want me to leave, yo."

Vincent closed his eyes, smirking slightly at the reactions of his team. Even after all this time, they were still so predictable. It was something he took comfort in, really, because it was so familiar.

"We feel no love for the ShinRa Corporation, Reno. You knew that before you agreed to meet with us. However, we do have some information that, despite that dislike, we feel should be made known."

Reno observed Vincent, the only cool-headed member of AVALANCHE when it came to the Turks, and felt the same respect that he always did around the gunman. Vincent Valentine had been known throughout the Turks as one of the best. Even though Reno had joined long after Vincent was gone, he'd heard stories. His gun was legendary, as was his ability to track silently and kill in seconds. He hadn't deserved everything that had happened to him, if the stories were true, but he was still alive. Had any of that shit happened to Reno, he couldn't say for sure that he wouldn't have stopped breathing a long time ago.

"I know, yo. Doesn't mean that I appreciate the death glares currently shortening my life expectancy."

Cid snorted, amused despite his disdain for the Turks. Honestly, he figured that, had the circumstances been different, he and Reno might have had some good times together.

"The Lifestream's shootin' out beasts that it doesn't have no right shootin' out. We've happened across at least two, probably three, and haven't been able to kill any of 'em. We can't even a land a fuckin' blow. If we can't take em down, no one can."

"Pretty sure of yourselves, aren't you?"

Cloud shifted his Buster Sword across his back, reminding everyone in the group that it was there in case he got annoyed.

"We saved the world. I didn't see you kill Sephiroth, correct me if I'm wrong. So, yes, I would say that we're fairly sure of our abilities at this point."

Reno's eyes slowly moved to Cloud. His stance seemed relaxed, but they all knew that he was always ready for a fight. His animosity towards the AVALANCHE leader had never been made a secret.

"No need to crawl up my ass, yo. So, you want me to tell Rufus that there's a new threat…wouldn't a phone call have done just about the same thing? If y'all hate me, and I hate you, why make us all uncomfortable, yo?"

"Oh, come on, Reno! Ya know we all love you just to pieces. We can't afford to have this information leak out, if ya get me. If this causes a panic, you know people'll start acting like idiots. If Rufus makes the announcement, it'll be for the better. People listen to him, though fuck me if I know why."

Reno had been involved in the Turks long enough to understand the importance of keeping information secret until the opportune moment. He also knew that, despite Rufus' best efforts, the phones at ShinRa were impossible to completely secure.

"Alright. I get it. Tell me everything you know, yo, and it'll get back to Rufus with no one the wiser."

"We knew you would see it our way, Reno."

Vincent folded his hands underneath his cloak, smirking slightly behind the violent red, concealing collar.

--

It was much later that night that Vincent looked up from his cup of gently steaming tea, listening intently to the footsteps that approached the kitchen. Had they belonged to anyone that routinely stayed on the ship, he would have recognized them. Years of service in the Turks, as well as the presence of three supernatural entities inside him, made him particularly sensitive to sounds like that. That was why, when Reno stalked into the kitchen, red ponytail swaying slowly behind him, he wasn't as surprised as he might have been.

Like himself, he assumed that Reno wasn't able to sleep on the Highwind, though for a different reason. The Turks were trained to do horrible things. Rufus ShinRa wasn't known for his discretion when using his subordinates, even less than his father was. If Reno and his partner, Rude, got calls in the middle of the night ordering them to 'take care of someone', they had to do it. They weren't allowed to hesitate, or feel any guilt or remorse for what they'd done, and they didn't. Consequently, the only place they could really sleep comfortably was their own beds with the door locked tightly and the windows barred.

Vincent raised an eyebrow when Reno walked over and sat down across from him with Cid's reserve bottle of gin clutched in his hand.

"You are aware that if Cid notices you drank his reserve supply before we get back to Midgar, he will not hesitate to murder you, correct?"

Reno cracked open the seal, taking a large gulp of the clear liquid and smirking as it burned his throat on the way down.

"Of course, yo. Well, he could _try,_ anyway. It wouldn't be the first time the Captain wanted to kill me. I didn't get into the Turks because of my Girl Scout brownie points though; I'm more than capable of avoiding his infamous Venus Gospel if I need to, yo. I'm thirsty." He grinned at the gunman as Vincent slowly sipped his tea.

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence, the two men almost taking satisfaction in the idea that no one else on the ship could ever understand the mentality behind everything they'd done in their lives. Finally, Reno sighed, crossing his feet on the chair next to him.

"So," he said, taking another drink of the gin, "I don't know if your group were sugarcoating the situation for me, or because they didn't want to admit how bad it was to themselves, but I'd like to hear it straight, yo. Exactly how screwed are we?"

His gaze was steady as he met Vincent's eyes. While Reno may have acted immature and rash, he wasn't stupid. When people don't take one seriously, they tend to underestimate one's abilities as well.

"The situation is bad. I have never been involved in something this one-sided before. With Sephiroth, at least we knew a little about what we were dealing with. This, however, is something entirely different. The lifestream created this beast for one of two purposes. Either it was made to test us, and we have proven too blind to see its weaknesses, or it was birthed to annihilate us, in which case it probably _has_ no weaknesses. We are at an extreme disadvantage, no matter which ends up being the answer. AVALANCHE has run out of options, it seems." He took another sip of his tea, frowning at the fact that it had almost gone cold.

"Well, gee, don't get so shook up about it, yo," Reno said, rolling his eyes.

"The debt I owe this planet is one I will never be able to fully repay; if laying down my life would remove the threat, I would do so without question. Apart from that, I doubt my being here will change much of anything. Whether I become 'shook up' about it does not really matter."

Reno raised an amused eyebrow, finally realizing why Vincent seemed so familiar to him.

"You know, my partner's a lot like you, Vincent. Rude, I mean. He acts like nothing bothers him, like he couldn't give a shit whether or not the entire fucking world suddenly blew up, so long as it didn't scratch his sunglasses. But he does. Just like you do, yo. Of all the people on this ship, the only one who could really do any damage is you. If you decided to turn against us, we'd be so fucked over we wouldn't even be able to _see_ straight. You're about as useless as a nuclear weapon, yo. But, the others don't know that, do they? None of 'em really know anything about you at all. Am I right? It took me three fuckin' years of being Rude's partner before I learned anything about him other than what he decided to show the world. If your little spiky-haired leader knew what you could do, he'd piss his pants." Reno said his last statement with such surety, as if no doubt lingered in his mind.

While outwardly he gave no sign, Vincent was shocked. How could Reno know something about him that not even Cid knew? The insecurities which he'd tried so hard to tamp down came flashing to the surface, blinding him. He'd been careful. He'd never told anyone, or shown any more power than was absolutely necessary. Upon his awakening in Nibelheim, he'd promised to lock those powers away, and he'd kept that promise. Now this man, one who he'd rarely had the opportunity to speak with, claimed to know all about it? It was impossible.

Regaining his composure at that thought, he took another leisurely sip of his tea, buying himself a little more time.

"This is all speculation, I assume? When I was with them, the Turks were careful to train their recruits in the art of observation. Is this still the case?"

"Of course, Vincent. Any records we may have had of you were destroyed, likely by Doctor Hojo himself, yo. But we all know what happened. Shit like that doesn't just happen without anyone knowing, even if that slimy scientist thought he was so secretive about it. I'm sure you understand, being a former Turk, that we're payed to follow orders and keep our mouths shut, but we still hear things, yo. So, while it is speculation, it is also informed speculation."

It was strange, Vincent thought, that Reno would choose to bring this up. What could have been a simple conversation over a cup of tea and a bottle of gin had turned into something entirely different. He couldn't help but feeling that he was being accused of something, judged somehow inside Reno's mind.

"Why bother making this speculation now? Are you warning me?"

"I just find it odd, is all. So this monster has no weak points. So what? As far as I know, nothing's immune to a good, old-fashioned obliteration. And, according to my speculation, that's something you're fully capable of dishing out, yo. Like I said, it's a bit strange. Almost as if you didn't really want to destroy it." He shrugged casually, but as he took another drink from the bottle, his gaze was anything but casual.

"Listen, yo. You called me here as a favor. Everyone knows that AVALANCHE has never been on good terms with ShinRa Corporation, yet you called _me_, someone directly on the ShinRa payroll. How far are you willing to go to keep this little secret of yours? Would you let Strife get killed? Red? Highwind? Would you sit there and watch your world get destroyed because you're scared of what you're capable of? I couldn't say for sure, yo, but, from where I'm sitting, it sure as hell looks like it."

He was right, of course, and Vincent knew that. How far _would_ he go to protect himself?

I don't know, he thought.

"You have your information, Reno; I cannot stop you from spreading it. Perhaps it might even be for the best. I'm a danger to myself, and a danger to others. Perhaps locking me up might be the best for everyone."

At this, Reno laughed, a single pleasing note seeming so completely out of place. Even after the moment was over, a smile stayed on his face, as if some thought amused him to no end.

"If it were anyone else, yo, I'd think you were trying to make me second-guess myself. But you really think that, don't you? You're something else, Vincent Valentine. I can't decide whether I should be running for my life or buying you a drink."

He deftly screwed the cap on the bottle of gin, placing it rather harder than necessary on the counter.

"Let me just tell you something, yo. Power has a way of escaping. If you hold it in, it's just going to be all the stronger when it finally breaks free." He stood, pulling on the suit jacket that he'd laid across the back of his chair. As he left the room, heading towards the guest quarters in the back of the airship, he shot one last look back at Vincent, and, for all of the gunman's intelligence, he couldn't figure out what it meant.

-- (begin mature content. ends at end of chapter.)

Cid turned over again, seemingly unable to find a comfortable position on his bed. His mind wouldn't shut down. Every single time his eyes almost managed to slip closed, he noticed something that would make him wide awake again. That obnoxious click from the engine room was back, and it seemed that the heat was malfunctioning, making a gusty rattling sound every time the system was engaged.

Finally, not able to take it anymore, he lit the lamp on his bedside table, reaching for the packet of cigarettes that he kept in the drawer. Instead of landing on the small rectangular box, however, his fingers curled around something tubular and smooth that had been tucked further back in drawer. The item gave a little beneath his grip, and he pulled it out, curious.

Of course, he thought. Of course it would be fuckin' lubricant. What the fuck else would it be?

He stared at it in his palm, unable to stop the small tendrils of desire curling in his veins at the sight of the little tube. It was half empty, and closing his eyes he could almost picture Vincent smirking, popping open the tube and rubbing the slippery liquid between his fingers, and it made an erotic picture no matter how pissed of at his lover he was.

Why that tube was there, in his bedside table, wasn't really something he wanted to think about. Obviously, he'd moved it when he'd switched rooms, but lubricant wasn't something that one generally kept for sentimental reasons.

It was unscented, unflavored, the exact same brand that they'd always gotten, not because there was anything particularly amazing about it, just that they knew it would get the job done. Cid smiled, remembering the first time that Vincent had pulled it out of his pocket, nervous for one of the few instances in his life.

"_I...do not...want to move too quickly for you, Cid."_ He'd said. _"If you are uncomfortable, I can easily wait..."_

Cid had tackled him, pinned him down onto the bed, and proceeded with showing him exactly how unhesitant he was.

With a sigh, Cid resigned himself to the fact that, not only was he wide awake, he now had an erection that wasn't likely to take care of itself anytime soon. Reaching into the drawer again, he pulled out the pack of cigarettes that had started everything, lighting one and feeling the calming nicotine flood his system almost immediately. As the smoke flowed out from between his parted lips, he sat up, resting his head back against the somewhat ornate headboard, closing his eyes.

The soft knock on his door was unfortunate, and he briefly considered ignoring whoever it was. He could pretend that he'd fallen asleep with the light on, or that he hadn't heard the knock. It would be easier than getting up and answering the door, he decided. He kept his eyes closed, taking another drag from his cigarette as the door opened anyway.

"I know that you are not asleep, Cid. You never could fall asleep with the light on."

Cid blew another stream of smoke from his mouth, sighing. It was true. Vincent was probably the only one who knew, but it was true.

"Catch," he said, throwing the lubricant at the gunman. If anything, Vincent might feel the same sense of nostalgia that he had from the pale blue tube. "I found it. I don' really know why I fuckin' bothered keepin' it, but apparently I did."

If he'd bothered opening his eyes, he would have seen a look on Vincent's face. To anyone else, it would have seemed as blank and emotionless as usual, but Cid would have recognized it. It was a look that he'd seen often on the months before the final fight with Sephiroth.

"It seems an odd thing to keep as a token of a dead lover, Cid." His voice was little more than a deep growl, possessive and predatory, and the pilot opened his eyes to see Vincent walking over as if he had the complete and utter right to be there. Putting the tube on the table, he shocked both of them by reaching over and pulling Cid into a searing kiss, climbing onto the bed even as he pushed the captain down against the pillows.

"I know that I had hoped, one day, that you might move on, but the thought of you using that with anyone else makes me feel sick."

Cid's eyes widened as his mouth was captured again. The familiar weight of Vincent on top of him was intoxicating, and his senses were flooded with everything he remembered about his lover, from his slightly earthy smell to his soft, black hair. He pulled Vincent closer to him by wrapping his arms around his slim shoulders, changing the angle of the kiss slightly.

"I'd never, Vin," he gasped out, running his hands down the back of Vincent's cloak. The cloak was made from a rough, red cotton, and not what his fingers were looking for. With one hand, he unbuckled it from around his lover's neck. It slid onto the bed, cascading gently to the floor off the satin bedspread, and his hands returned to caressing Vincent's smooth, thinly muscled back. The leather bodysuit clung to him like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination, and Cid's hands would have remembered the contours had Vincent been wearing a burlap sack.

Vincent hadn't failed to notice Cid's erection when he lowered himself onto the captain's lap, but he hadn't had to wonder about its reason for being there. Seeing the pale blue tube had stirred his own arousal, and he had no way of knowing how much time had passed since Cid had first discovered it. He ran his hands down Cid's unclothed chest, glad for the fact that he still seemed to prefer sleeping without nightclothes. Cid smelled delicious, freshly showered and clean, with the omnipresent smell of cigarette smoke cloaking him like a permanent blanket.

The captain's skin was still smooth, naturally tan as if he routinely wandered underneath the sun completely naked, and Vincent groaned at the feeling. This was something he'd never thought he'd be able to have again. Truthfully, he hadn't even entered Cid's room with sex in mind. He'd come to tell Cid about what Reno had discovered. Of anyone, his lover deserved to know.

But seeing that little tube in his hand had made all rational thoughts leave his mind, and all he remembered was the way Cid felt writhing beneath him, quietly moaning his name, flushed and panting as Vincent's cock pressed repeatedly into his body. It didn't help that Cid was obviously remembering the same thing.

He pulled the duvet off Cid's body, neither of them needing the extra warmth, and ran a hand up his bare thigh underneath the material of his boxers. Cid frowned in annoyance at the fact that, while Vincent was able to touch him, the gunman's bodysuit was still in the way, covering up miles of milky white skin that he longed to feel again.

It didn't matter how many times he'd had sex with the man, taking off that leather had never gotten any easier. Seemingly thousands of buckles had to be undone, and each one had some sort of secret method of popping open. The one next to Vincent's hip had to be pressed down and then pulled up, and one on his right leg had a little catch on the side, but those were the only two he'd managed to figure out so far.

Vincent smirked, divesting himself of his suit within seconds, and reattached his lips to Cid's neck. The warmth of his lover's body was exquisite, and the cold that had seeped into his bones over the past months was banished with the force to another human presence. Moving in a rhythm they'd established for the first time months ago, he thrust hip hips down, rubbing his erection against Cid's, only a layer of thin cotton separating them.

Cid really was beautiful, in an unconventional way. He was no longer young, but the feeling of youth still surrounded his features. Like Vincent, it seemed that the years had neglected to touch him. His blond hair was still devoid of gray, and his muscles remained long and lean despite years of chain smoking. There was no doubt in his mind about why he'd fallen in love with this man, despite his rough exterior.

He trailed kisses down Cid's cheek, smiling at the harsh feel of stubble sliding across his lips. Stopping at the captain's ear, he nibbled gently, remembering it as one of Cid's many erogenous zones. The moan he got for his efforts urged him on, and his hands traveled down the tan chest, ghosting over his nipples on his way down. He could feel exploratory touches on his back like a drowning man felt his first breath of air, and the relief almost made his arms give out.

To be feeling this now, after he'd resigned himself to never feeling it again, was pure, unadulterated bliss.

Cid groaned, tugging gently on Vincent's hair to pull his lips back for a breathtaking kiss. It seemed that now they were together again, something even as mundane as kissing became so arousing that it ached.

He could feel himself, pulsing and hard, push against his boxers, and Vincent's length pressing against him felt like heaven. He rolled his hips up, grinding their erections together, and their kiss was filled with muffled gasps and moans.

Vincent leaned over again, flicking his tongue out over Cid's ear, forcing a shudder from the body beneath him.

"Turn over, Cid," he purred, running his tongue along the shell.

Maybe it was strange, but whenever Vincent used that voice, he melted into arousal. Forceful and demanding, it was nothing more than a growl. He couldn't possibly refuse.

Turning over, he rested his weight on his hands and knees, pushing backwards into Vincent's hard length. He groaned, images floating into his mind, unbidden, of Vincent thrusting behind him, panting and flushed, completely without the stoic facade that seemed to cover him even in sleep. He shivered when gentle fingers, pressing lightly, traced up his spine, followed by a wet tongue. Apparently, Vincent hadn't forgotten his appreciation of that particular move in the time they'd been separated.

"Oh, God, Vincent." Hands smoothed over his shoulder blades, as his lovers mouth latched onto his neck, pulling a small patch of skin between his lips. Vincent's weight settled on top of him, through the gunman was careful to keep his legs in a position where he could still support most of himself.

It had been familiar to him before, Vincent surrounding him, covering him, filling him, but their separation had almost made Cid forget what it felt like. The smell of his lover was all around him, the heat of his body infiltrating his pores, and he couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips. The skin on his neck felt like it was on fire, and the contact all the way up his back felt like a thousand shocks, stinging him in their intensity.

Vincent trailed his tongue back down Cid's back, pleased with the way he had turned the gruff pilot into a moaning, writhing mass beneath him. He knew he probably didn't deserve the chance to start over with his lover, especially not so soon, but he just couldn't bring himself to care. Having Cid in his arms again was a thousand times better than he'd imagined during those nights he had almost broken down with the force of his loneliness. And, as he slid the boxers off his slim hips, he could almost feel that loneliness leaving for good.

He gently pulled apart the two globes beneath his fingers, entranced by the erotic picture in front of him. Cid's cock stood straight, rigid and hot with the force of his arousal, and the soft trail of skin leading to the small ring of muscle looked as appetizing as anything he'd ever seen. He dipped his head, licking a strip from deep between his lover's legs to his anus, enjoying the deep shudder that came from the body beneath him.

Cid had apparently showered that evening, and his skin tasted fresh and clean. The hole twitched beneath his tongue as he repeatedly laved the spot, occasionally thrusting his tongue gently inside, mimicking what they both knew this was leading up to. His hands roamed over Cid's body; his fingertips pressed against his smooth skin. The curl of desire in his belly had become a raging force, and he trembled with pure want for the man he'd come, against all odds, to love.

Cid inhaled a shaky breath, feeling Vincent's cheek rest on his back for a moment, trying to control his heartbeat. Neither of them wanted this to be over too soon, despite their time of forced celibacy. A hand on his hip, pressing gently, made him turn over again to lay back on the bed. He spread his legs, looking up into Vincent's eyes with a wanton look in his eyes, filled with longing and pent-up lust finally breaking through.

Vincent reached over to the bedside table, popping open the tube that Cid had so fortuitously uncovered only minutes ago. At the first touch of the liquid on his fingertips, he shivered, remembering the feeling all too well, along with the sensations it brought. He ran his palm up the side of Cid's erection, wrapping his fingers around it and stroking softly, while his other hand rubbed his backside. One finger reached out, tracing around the little hole which spasmed under the ministrations

Spreading a little more on his fingers, he pressed one inside his lover firmly. Cid gasped at the intrusion, but almost immediately pushed back, aching for more. It had been far to long for both of them. Another finger joined the first, and they scissored back and forth, brushing firmly against Cid's prostate. His low moan filled the room, and Vincent couldn't stand it anymore. His cock was already leaking, and his heart ached just as fiercely as his body to be inside his lover.

In one solid move, he positioned himself and slid inside Cid's, the breath catching in his lungs at how incredible it felt to be surrounded by the tight heat of his lover again.

As Vincent began to move, slowly and languidly, Cid closed his eyes thrusting forwards, hardly daring to believe that his lover was there, with him in a way that he never thought he'd feel again. Vincent pressed more fully inside, and Cid could feel his balls resting heavily against his ass. They stayed there, for a moment, Vincent reveling in the feeling of being surrounded just as Cid reveled in being filled. The blunt tip of the gunman's hardness pressed as far inside the pilot as it would go, and the constant, slight pressure on his prostate made Cid's vision go dull around the edges with pleasure. The desire to stay put warred inside Vincent's mind with the desire to pound relentlessly into the body beneath him, and he shivered with the intensity of the feeling.

Something seemed to spark in the air, and suddenly all of their hesitation had disappeared. On their own volition, their bodies started moving in tandem, pushing and pulling, sliding and gripping, until their minds shut down and the only thing guiding them was some animalistic, primal urge to couple.

Sweat dotted their brows, and Cid's fingers spastically clasped around his lover's arms in time with their thrusts. The release built up inside of him, too soon but at the same time not soon enough, and the friction on his erection from their frenetic grind pulled him over the edge. Blackness threatened to overtake his vision as his climax ripped through him for the first time since the gunman had beaten Sephiroth. Vincent's seed filled him, signaling that his lover had also found his release, and they collapsed on the bed together, panting with the force of their completion.

As Vincent pulled out of his lover, a thin trail of cum followed his cock. Cid's entrance pulsed convulsively, red and abused, and Vincent couldn't help but stare. His desire for the captain hadn't lessened. No, in fact, it was growing exponentially, making him want all over again. The urge to stay in this bed forever, to never leave Cid alone again was almost too strong to resist.

As his lover pulled the covers exhaustedly over them, Vincent sighed at the feel of satin on his skin and the smell of cigarettes and gin in his nose.

--

A/N: oh my goodness! /fans self/ This chapter, despite being ridiculously late, is the longest one yet! Granted, all of that length is due to the lemon which I finally decided to include, but hey. I haven't written one in a long time, so forgive me if my lemon wasn't up to snuff, but unfortunately it will probably be a while until I write in another one. Let's hope ff doesn't get on my ass about the whole "non nc-17" rule, because I'm fairly certain this breaks that... /shifty eyes/

I fully intended to not have the lemon in this chapter, but it just fit so well and I still have some space to fill soooo, here it is. Please let me know what you think and how I might make it better next time!

Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review!


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Final Fantasy VII, Drama, Romance