Woven Ties

Woven Ties


//

Two days went by before Vincent decided enough time had passed for Cid to have ‘rested’, and it was then that he voiced his desire to return to Edge and mend his leather. He knew the pilot was perfectly healthy, and it certainly seemed like he hadn’t needed this so called rest, but if there was one thing that concerned Vincent it was health. He wondered if sometimes he couldn’t notice illness and disease in other people because he himself was immune to such things. They were never an issue in his life now, therefore his mind had long since stopped thinking about them. But what if Cid had needed the rest and he simply couldn’t see that? To be safe he had subtly kept the pilot within the town, and he suspected that Cid realized this. Thankfully, he seemed too content with his life alongside Vincent to actually want to get out.

It had been slowly warming up in Rocket Town as summer approached. A storm was swirling overhead when they departed from Cid’s hometown, rumbling threateningly as it rolled closer. Thankfully they had hopped into the Tiny Broncho II just in time, beating the rain before it could ruin their plans to heading to Edge. The sounds of the storm drifted away, becoming more and more distant as they made their way to the east continent.

Cid glanced back at Vincent once they were well into the air, catching his red eyes and smiling in his traditional rugged way. He was pleased to receive a sultry smile back, albeit a small one, but it was enough to make him want to set down and remedy those itching fingers. However he didn’t; he was too eager to get to Edge where he could set down properly and ‘scratch’ them.

Finally the journey came to an end as they entered Edge airspace. Cid set his plane down in the familiar shipping lane, and they climbed out. As he was locking her down Vincent waited patiently, curiously watching Cid’s system check. Under his left arm was his tattered leather, and despite Cid’s protests Vincent had bought himself a pair of black pants and a black button-down shirt. To say they were ordinary clothes, they didn’t look a whole lot different than his leather under his red cape, which he had donned as soon as he had discarded Cid’s clothes. At least his shoes didn’t look too odd, now. And he felt a lot more comfortable with the reassuring weight of his cape and the ‘protection’ of the mantel.

They left the small airport a minute later, and Vincent led the way to the best and only store he had come across that made a completely perfect patch-up job. His leather might require more than a ‘patch-up’ though, but he had seen their work and was confident they could fix his leather. The store was located among a small scattering of streets. People bustled about and he was reminded of Junon. Once inside, he left his leather with a name and a contact detail, and was given an estimated time of a week at the least. He accepted and they left.

“I hope they make it just a little bit smaller,” Cid commented shrewdly as they walked. Vincent gave him a confused frown and he smirked. “It’d show off them curves perfectly.”

Vincent’s eyebrows lowered jadedly and he sped up his pace a bit. Cid called out and rushed to fall in step, grinning.

They arrived at Seventh Heaven fifteen minutes later to a surprised Tifa and Barret. The bar was lively with music tuning out of the internal speakers cheerfully and the customers talking to each other. A few of them glanced at the pair as they crossed the room to the bar, and then returned to their drinks.

“Heh-hey, Cid!” Barret greeted, clasping hands in his friendly way and giving Cid’s hand a good shake. It was followed by a hearty slap on the back. “How you doin’?”

“Better than ever,” Cid replied, sitting down on the nearest bar stool. “Be better when I get a drink down me,” he smiled suggestively at Tifa and she shook her head in amusement as she poured him a glass of his usual.

“Anything for you, Vincent?” She asked as she filled the pint.

He shook his head as he took a seat next to Cid, listening to Barret and he talked. They were particularly loud, but no one else in the bar seemed to mind. It was something of a custom, Vincent assumed, to make a lot of noise in a bar.

Tifa pushed the glass to the pilot, who spared her a ‘thanks’ in-between a long sentence about machinery. She turned back to Vincent and rested her elbows on the counter.

“How’s life now you’re not constantly on the move?” She asked with a smile, referring to his obviously continuous living accommodations with Cid.

His crimson eyes glanced at her for a second, sensing the curiosity in her expression. He looked at the counter top in thoughtfulness. “Tolerable…surprisingly.” He offered the slightest smile of amusement.

Tifa laughed lightly. “I think it’s definitely been good for you.”

This surprised him. Could the others tell, too? Had he changed that noticeably? He was glad in a way, he was getting on with life and they needn’t have to worry about him any more. They could see that he didn’t need any pity or concern for his tragic past, because he was finally getting over it…Finally. And Cid was the cause of his improvement. He supposed he owed him for that; there was unlikely anyone else on the planet who could have endured his drab ways like the pilot had. Not that he’d want anyone else…

“You have this new spark in your eyes that wasn’t there before,” Tifa remarked as she nodded at a leaving customer across the room. Her bright brown eyes looked back at him, regarding him fondly. “And smiling really suits you. You should try it more often.”

He tilted his head in consideration of her words. “Perhaps I will…I have more to smile about now…”

She giggled lightly. “Just keep it away from the ladies,” she wriggled her eyebrows as she turned away to deal with an order.

Vincent turned to Cid and Barret’s conversation, surprised and not to find the pilot’s beer glass empty, despite having never stopped talking. Thankfully their conversation topic had reached its end.

“What’re you two doing now, then?” Barret asked, noticing Vincent’s attention. “Still on ya crystal hunt? We kept an eye out, but ain’t no sign of anyone selling any crytals.”

Cid made an indecisive face. “Dunno, we ain’t really got anything more to go on.” He glanced back at Vincent. “Could check out the cave again. Make sure no more have been stolen.”

Vincent nodded. It was a good idea. The only idea.

They agreed to check the crystals when they returned to Rocket Town later that day. For now they joined their friends for dinner, basking in the enjoyable company of a returned Cloud, Marlene and Denzel. They seemed eager to hear about Cid’s well-being and how Vincent was adapting to stationary life. When they finally decided to leave it was turning dusk. They stepped out into the coming night with friendly goodbyes and waves and set off back to Cid’s plane. As they went Cid spoke animatedly to Vincent, and the gunman could see that the visit had cheered him considerably.

They took the plane from Edge once again, leaving their friends and Vincent’s leather in the growing town as they sped back to the west continent. Since the grotto where Lucrecia rested was on the same course as Rocket Town Cid didn’t have to edit their heading. Nearly two hours later they set down inside the circular crater, thankful the Tiny Broncho II was small enough to land.

The night was dark by then, and they were both reminded of their last visit there when it had all started. However unlike back then, tonight was cloudy and the thunders than had advanced on Rocket Town hours ago were now hanging overhead. Flashes of lightening split up the clouds followed almost immediately by a huge clap of thunder. Cid very nearly decided against landing, but during their arrival the storm seemed to pause enough for them to approach, as though welcoming them under the carpet of darkness. He had thought the storm had faded away, but he had been wrong. Now, as they climbed out of the plane and the raindrops began to fall, he wondered if they would be able to leave.

The rain pounded down in the few seconds since it had started, and they both dashed to the cave entrance, shaking the loose raindrops from their hair and clothing. Cid offered a ‘shit-happens’ grin.

The grotto was as mystical as ever. With the thunder booming outside – a dulled, muffled noise from inside the mountain – they approached the crystal cave in the center, eyes drawn to the beautiful woman inside. But the atmosphere was different. Something lurked in the air that even Cid could feel. This place made him uncomfortable, and not in the same way it had before. He glanced at the ceiling, down at the walls and stared into the shadows, straining his eyes for anything that might help him put a tag to this feeling. He found nothing visibly wrong, but as he glanced at Vincent he could tell his partner was experiencing the same feelings.

The crystals were intact, save for the first few that had been taken. Vincent inspected them with a once-around, circling the crystal tomb of the scientist. He, too, could not understand why the air was so different. And then he stopped. He looked up at her. Lucrecia’s glowing form remained still and preserved. She was quiet.

Cid stepped up to Vincent, taking his arm in hand. “C’mon, Vince. We should get goin’ before it gets any worse outside.” He gently led him away, breaking the lock of his crimson eyes upon the woman he had once loved.

They stepped out into a torrential downpour. Thunder shattered the air, vibrating their eardrums as they shielded their faces against the battering rain. Cid seriously wondered if he could get them out of there in such weather. The roar of the waterfall mingled with the noise of the rain left no space for speaking. Cid had to shout.

“Dunno if I can get her off the ground!” He called, even though they were barely three feet apart. He took momentary amusement in Vincent’s appearance. His long black hair had been blown into his face where it had matted to his skin. He clawed it away only to have it return. He gave up and Cid smiled.

Vincent turned sharply, his eyes narrowed in the direction across the water. Cid followed his gaze but visibility was poor through the sheets of rain. There was nothing to see, and especially nothing to hear. He started to turn away –

– But something shot at Vincent, embedding itself in his exposed arm.

Vincent jerked, yanking out Cerberus as he fell into a defensive crouch and aimed at the direction it came come from. Cid cursed, having no weapon he crouched quickly.

“What the fuck?” He cursed, spitting water as it raining on his lips.

Vincent grabbed Cid’s arm and hauled him behind an outcropping of rock. It provided adequate protection. The gunman pulled the dart from his arm and examined it. Whatever had been in the vial had disappeared into his bloodstream.

“Shit – are you okay?” Cid called, grabbing Vincent’s shoulder.

The man nodded, but there was a note of unease in his eyes. “I cannot be brought down by ordinary drugs…” He peeked around the boulder, scouring the pouring rain for the source of his attacker. With his weapon in one hand he inched away from Cid. “They must be close to issue a shot in this visibility…Let’s go.”

He dashed forward with Cid cursing behind him, following and feeling too vulnerable without a weapon. Who were ‘they’? The duo raced through the rain with the pilot on Vincent’s heals, both bent low. He trusted the gunman knew which direction their attacker was at, so he did not question. His mind was too preoccupied with other thoughts, and he knew thinking was dangerous at a time like this, but the situation was confusing. Why had Vincent been attacked with a dart? And by who? As he was running blindly, having only a meter or so visibility, he noticed Vincent had fallen behind him. He stopped and turned. Galian Beast was there.

“Vince, what’s wrong?” He yelled over the rain. He thought Vincent had seen something that warranted Galian’s power, but a second later it seemed he had thought wrong. The Galian Beast was looking at his transformed arms and hands, confused. Cid stepped closer, feeling like a sitting duck despite the cover of the storm. “Vince –”

The Galian Beast stepped back from him, his animal features twisted into a look of puzzlement. He shook his head, flinging water from his mane as he gripped his temples, twisting about in obvious distress.

“Vince!” Cid reached for him, but a second later the telltale magic of his transformation surrounded him and Vincent’s body returned, breathless and alarmed, staring about. “Vince – what is it?” Cid demanded, taking his arm in hand.

“Some-something’s wrong,” Vincent panted. The Galian was roaring inside his mind along with his other demons; unsettled and wild. They were making things very difficult to think. He could barely hear Cid and the rain – it was driving him mad. They were clawing at his mind, but amidst the panic there was a sense of familiarity, something that brought back horrible feelings for both him and his demons. He needed to get away.

Cid grabbed his arm and jerked him into a run. He knew enough to know things were against them right then. He needed to get Vincent away from their attackers. “We’re getting the fuck outta here,” he yelled, dragging his partner back to the Tiny Broncho II. He felt Vincent stumble on the rocky terrain, but it only made him increase their pace, determined to get them back to Rocket Town safe and sound.

It wasn’t to be.

Vincent collapsed.

His arm was wrenched from Cid’s grip as he fell. The pilot whirled around and dived to the ground beside him, blue eyes wide. “Vince!” He rolled him onto his back, cupping his face as the water continued to pour, streaming down the pale face. “Vince – ” The gunman’s eyes were fighting to stay open. He appeared too dazed to speak. Cid cursed and hefted him into his arms, struggling to break into a run as he stumbled over the rocks with Vincent’s added weight. Cid felt frantic, he didn’t know if their attackers were bearing down on them at that very moment or were waiting to leap out somewhere, but he knew had to get Vincent away. The man was completely unconscious. Cid swore again as he shifted Vincent’s slipping weight, hoping he was running in the right direction. His spirit leapt when the Tiny Broncho II dissolved into view amidst the merciless sheets of rain. Almost there.

Something compelled him to turn. He whirled around, Vincent’s long legs swaying with the motion – and his heart leapt into his throat. Figures merged from the rain, appearing from the curtain like phantoms. They rushed him.

Cid dodged a swing at his head, immediately leaping away from another blow as they all came at him. He twisted from an attack to his left, dashing back from the next blow he had almost walked into. His arms were hindered, his balance was off; there was no way he could fight these people. The plane was right there! If he could just –

A blow to his head sent him to the ground. Vincent fell from his arms, rolling limply as Cid tried desperately to grab him. Something swung at him and clobbered his jaw, sending him flying away from his partner with a pained grunt. He hit the rocky ground painfully, scraping and cutting his body, tearing his clothes. But he ignored the stinging and managed to use his momentum to force his body into a roll, successfully evading another attack.

“Nn –Vince –” His eyes frantically searched the ground for his lover through the harsh rain. He dived away from an oncoming figure and swept his legs out, taking them down into a heavy heap. He jumped to his feet, anger flaring inside him. It was time he took on the offence. He grabbed a fist aiming for his head, twisted and let their own speed collide with his elbow. They went down and Cid turned for the next. He ducked and dodged, turned and delivered his own attacks, but there were simply too many. He was outnumbered. One well-placed kick sent him down, and a hail of attacks followed. He had no chance. The last he saw was the rain falling before he lost consciousness…

//

Cid woke with a gasp, consequently choking on the rainwater he had swallowed. He curled instinctively and rolled onto his side, only semi-aware and not completely conscious. His head was exploding with every movement, the pain in his body caused him to moan, though it was unheard in the noise of the rain. Something warm was running down his arm, and he was sure it wasn’t water. He coughed, groggily fumbling to find his balance.

“Vince…” He rasped. He cleared his throat and swallowed as he jerked his head around, trying to find his partner through the rain. He could see nothing. Cid stumbled to his feet, almost blacking out from the pain in his head. But he ignored it, looking around wildly. The figures had disappeared. Along with the gunman. “Vincent…” He called, dragging his heavy body through the sheets of abusive rain, trying to make out anything other than rocks and water. Nothing moved. He couldn’t see any figures. He couldn’t see anything at all. The red of Vincent’s cape was nowhere to be seen. Cid spun around, panting loudly, his heart pounding painfully.

“VINCENT!”

//