Vincent Comes Home

Jeez. I was wonderin' what the hell happened when I looked at this today and realized my friggin' chapter was gone.

So I'm reposting it and the next one now.

I can't quite remember how the named was spelled. Shadach....something like that. I'm sorry. You asked me if I had seen Final Fantasy: Advent Children--and I have the privelege to say that I have and I loved it. And I took some of the details from it and incorporated it here. :) But not GeoStigma--that isn't what's wrong with Cloud.


This chapter travels to a couple different places between the characters and how their situation subtley advances and changes. Hope you like it...

Next.


“Did you bring weapons?” Cid was standing with Jeremiah, looking over a rack of guns on the bottom deck. This part of the ship was closed to all save Cid. Now he, and his fellow Captain, examined the supply of arms.

“I woul’ thin’ so,” responded Jeremiah, looking thoughtful. “I told ‘em where we were goin’. We all know ‘bout the Crater.”

“I’m not meanin’ them,” said Cid, turning to stare piercingly at Jeremiah. “They’ll stay on th’Highwind while we’re in the Crater. I mean you.”

Jeremiah smiled. “M’bit past m’prime, don’ yew think?”

“If you don’t wanna go I understan’.”

“Oh no,” said Jeremiah quickly, shaking his head. “I wanna come. Zet’n’me both’ll come.”

“Can she fight?”

“She’s proficient with firearms and we both can handle materia.”

“The Crater isn’t a place for someone who’s gonna chicken out. If you’re too weak than now’s the time to admit it. Neither of you have to come.”

Jeremiah crooked his head to the side. “Than why ‘ave yeh asked me t’come?”

Cid looked uncomfortable. “I’m bein’ polite, let’s say. Yer a Captain. Your crew may expect you t’go. Or you may want to go to show ‘em y’still can.”

Clearly, Jeremiah hadn’t thought of that. He scratched his face and considered that for several moments. “Tha’ makes a lot o’ sense, Cid. I’ll come.”

“You don’t need too,” Cid put in, again, just for emphasis. “If you get killed down there, s’not anyone’s fault but yours. And there are things in there that you’ve never seen before.”

Jeremiah shrugged. “I’m gettin’ old, Cid. I gotta do a couple more dangerous things ‘fore I retire or die.”

Cid nodded. “If you change your mind though, don’t be embarrassed. That place is dangerous—even for us. Sephiroth or no.”

“Yer curiously even-te’pered Cid.”

Cid scowled at him.

“Somethin’ to focus on, aye? Yew youn’ men always feel be’er wit sumthin’ to focus on.”

“Young men? Fuck Jeremiah, I’m not young anymore.”

Jeremiah looked fairly surprised. “ ‘ow old are yeh, Captain?”

Cid grinned at him, finding himself, abruptly, amused. “ M’thirty-five.”

“Psshhhaw,” said Jeremiah, waving a hand. “Yer still a youn’ man. Now me. I’m in m’fifties. Yeh’ve still got’a coupla years for y’catch me.”

Cid chuckled. “Y’know, Jeremiah. Yer all right.” He clapped the older captain on the back and walked away, grinning to himself, taking out his cigarettes and popping one out.

Jeremiah watched him leave, smiled a little and turned back to the guns. He should get his guns ready. He probably wouldn’t live through this. He had no children. No wife. Just a little house in the north. And Zet, of course. He’d known the girl for…three years. He’d given her a job on his ship when her parents had died and the war ended. There were so many orphans after the war. Although, she had been and was an adult and hardly an orphan. She didn’t really count with the dozens of parentless children under the age of fifteen that roamed the streets.

He had seen so many of those poor children in Midgar. No homes, no parents. Sleeping on the streets. Seems it’d be a mercy just to kill them. They were so listless. In the depths of despair. Some parts of him understood why Elmyra had left. They’d spoken only a few times. He had volunteered to help her buy her house and had always made himself available for any repairs she may have needed. But she had told him about the slums of Midgar and all the children that no one seemed to know what to do with. He wasn’t surprised. He was an old man, and by his own reckoning, he had seen a lot. He remembered being Zet’s age (going on twenty-four, wasn’t she?) and thinking fifty-three (or was it fifty-two?) was old. Now that he was here, it didn’t seem so bad. Just a bit stiffer in the morning. Sometimes it took him a minute to remember what went where in the workshop or the engine room. But once he was in the air—once he was flying—he forgot all that. When he flew, he was free and that was all that mattered. That ship was his life.

But if he died in the Crater, what would become of it? No. He didn’t need to worry. Zet would take care of things.

Feeling refreshed and pleased all of a sudden, Jeremiah turned and started to go back to the quarters Cid had given him. He paused in the shadowy corridor as a large, bulky shape came into sight, moving towards him slowly, like a great juggernaut. It stopped in front of Jeremiah.

Jeremiah looked up, leaned out and looked up some more. “Oh!” he blinked. “You’re a man!”

The dark man was built like a…like a….like bull or freight train or an engine block or a brick wall. Jeremiah squinted. The man was looking at him funny.

“Wa’s wrong wit you?”

Jeremiah took a step back to further examine the man. He peered curiously at the metallic glint on his arm. Was that a claw? Like Vincent’s? A brother? No….surely not. This man was gargantuan, where Vincent was lean. They were, perhaps, around the same height but this man could probably be three times bigger than Vincent. Hell, he could probably eat Vincent.

Jeremiah raised one hand and pointed a finger at him. The man stared at him, looking bewildered. “Are ye a member o’ Cid’s crew?”

The man furrowed his eyebrows in puzzlement and opened his mouth to speak.

“Well, no offense an’ all,” Jeremiah cut in, before the man could speak. “S’just that I’m sure yer not one a’mine. Cause I never seen you ‘fore. And yew’d be ‘ard t’miss, if y’don’t mind my sayin’ so.”

The man cocked a dark eyebrow. “M’Barret Wallace. Friend o’ Tifa’s. Asked me t’come out here.”

Jeremiah nodded. That still didn’t seem to fit. “You live with ‘er?”

The man called Barret’s mouth hung open for a second. “No. Course I don’t! I live in Midgar.”

“Oh.” Jeremiah brightened as he made a connection. “I kno’ a lady from Midgar. ‘Er name is Elmy—“

“Who are you?” asked Barret, crossing arms that resembled tree trunks.

Jeremiah stopped and stared at him. “Captain Jeremiah,” he said, throwing out his hand. Jeremiah frowned. Who was he again? “What’s yer name?”

Barret paused for a noticeable second. “Barret Wallace.” He took the old captain’s much smaller hand and shook it.

Jeremiah smiled, a little dimly at him, gave a very casual salute and said, “Well, til we meet aga—hey, are you Vincent’s brother?” Jeremiah—you already went through this.

Barret stared at him, cocking his head to the side.

Jeremiah looked away, waving his hand. “Ne’er mind, friend. Goo’bye.”

Barret watched the man disappear into his quarters. He turned back to look down the hallway. “Can’t ‘member what th’ hell m’doin’ now. Goddammit!” He hulked down the hallway, not quite remembering the layout of this damn ship and confused by that Captain. Where the hell was Cid? “CID!” he roared, sure he felt the walls rattle just for emphasis.

“HIGHWIND! WHERE ARE YEH!?”

Barret stopped further on and suddenly, everything jolted. Clumsily, he grabbed at the walls, scrabbling at the window ledge to steady himself. Cursing fragrantly, he glanced out the window.

The fins on the propellers were starting to move, picking up speed as the ship started to pick and then dropped down to the ground again. That scrawny smart-ass, Reno, was waving furiously at someone from the ground. He seemed to be yelling. Reno pointed towards the house, where Cid was emerging, Cloud folded in his arms like a blanket. Upon seeing his ship, Cid threw Cloud over his shoulder, passed him off on Reno and, looking outraged, sprinted up the ramp. Reno pointed at Cid and must have yelled something but then settled for looking disgusted as he struggled with Cloud. Barret laughed thunderously at the Turk’s bad fortune.

The big man heard Cid roaring and swearing before he saw him. The captain brushed past him but turned to jog backwards as he said, “Thanks fer comin’, Barret.”

Barret waved a hand and kept walking in the opposite direction. He’d talk to the man later. When he found Reno, the ex-Turk was cursing and lugging Cloud up the ramp. When the redhead spotted Barret [who was grinning], he stopped, straightened, and attempted to recover his dignity. Barret cocked an eyebrow at him. Reno scowled and gladly let the man take over, putting his hands in his pockets and trying to saunter away casually.

Barret rolled his eyes and threw Cloud over his shoulder. The boy groaned, gasping for air. Barret listened carefully and, seeing as the kid wasn’t in immediate danger, went back to the quarters. He had no idea which was Cloud’s. Luckily, Tifa was outside with someone in black slacks and a blue t-shirt.

“Tifa,” called Barret, gruffly. “Where’s Spike go?”

Tifa perked up. “Oh. Over here.” Tifa went further down the hall and opened a door.

Barret started to thump past but that shaggy, ragged, black mane of hair caught his eye. He stopped cold and turned. “You!”

Vincent nodded to him.

“Didn’t even recognize you. Nice to see you’ve rejoined the livin’. You shoulda come in when Tifa stopped by.”

“We were in a hurry.”

Barret nodded to that and looked to Tifa. “How many are coming?”

Vincent thought Barret was being uncharacteristically kind. He didn’t ask Tifa about the insanity of going to the Crater. He didn’t comment on the crazed hopefulness in Tifa’s countenance. He didn’t question Cloud’s condition or make any indication that he noticed or cared. That was Barret’s way.

“Cid has agreed to stop at Cosmo Canyon to see Nanaki. Cait Sith has abandoned his mog. He’s with Reeve now.”

“So he’s not much use to us.”

Tifa looked uncomfortable. “Well…no…”

“Hasn’t changed much then.” Barret laughed at his own joke as he threw Cloud unceremoniously onto the bunk.

Vincent smiled. So much for kind…

“Who the hell is that space cadet in the room on the end? Says he’s Captain Jeremiah.”

“A friend of Cid’s,” Tifa supplied. “He brought Vincent to Midgar from the north.”

The ship jolted again and before he could think about it, Vincent stuck out his good hand and steadied Tifa’s shoulder. She didn’t need it. Unlike Barret, Tifa was graceful as she was powerful and when she turned and gave him a puzzled look he took his hand away as if she’d burnt him. Suddenly feeling awkward, Vincent turned away and walked off, stuffing his whole hand in his pocket and leaving his claw to dangle.

“Geez, y’think he’s changin’ and then ‘e goes and stalks off again.”

Tifa smiled, unexplainably feeling a little uneasy. “Old habits die hard.”

On the Highwind, the bridge, of course, was the main desk. The wide windows were crystal clear and offered sight miles ahead. But Vincent preferred the open air to any bridge and so; he climbed up to the top deck. The air washed over him. He realized he was standing differently than he normally would.

In his red and black there was a feeling of protection, like armor, from his clothing. These clothes made themselves a part of him. No. He couldn’t shake the odd feeling. He was standing like a Turk. Like Reno still so often did. Back straight, leaning confidently to one side, shoulders slumped, eyes narrowed, clothes and hair flowing dramatically in the wind. All Vincent needed to do now was whip out a gun and point it at some underpaid, over-ambitious, greasy, cheating, son-of-a-bitch (at least, according to ShinRa) and the image would be complete. Or, he supposed, he could take out something like Reno’s EMR—electric…whatever-it-was…rod. He’d been trained for that, of course—but he had always preferred guns. That stick was difficult to hide anyway. So was he slipping back into being a Turk? Or had it simply always been a part of him—being a Turk had just given it a name?

Honestly. Did it matter anymore?

With that thought, Vincent turned his head, staring down at the furiously passing countryside.

No. It didn’t really matter anymore. What mattered was…

What did matter? A million things seemed to rattle through Vincent’s brain at that question but he found that it was one he couldn’t answer.

“So then th’ fellow asks me ‘whassamatter wit me’? Well, nothin’ was wron’ with me. ‘E was standing there, Zet—like a great, big ol’….big ol’….” Jeremiah flailed his arms, unable to exactly express his thoughts.

“Bulldog?” asked Zet, grinning in glee.

“Naw!” said Jeremiah. “’E was more dignified than a rangy ol’ mutt.”

“Wardrobe?”

Jeremiah paused, mid-flail. “Now tha’s jus’ silly, Zet.”

“A…uh…a buffalo!” Zet prompted, laughing.

Jeremiah lowered his arms, scowling. “Oh, you mangy girl. Why I pu’ up wi’ yeh is beyon’ me.”

Zet chuckled, taking a swig of water from a plastic, orange cup. She grinned, sheepish. “Ah, you know I’m just kiddin’, Jeremiah.”

“Oh, I know,” said the old captain, shaking a finger at her. “Y’li’le wench.”

Zet grinned delightedly at him.

The door whooshed open and Cid entered the room.

Jeremiah noticed only because Zet froze. Her shoulders tensed and her face lost her smile. She swallowed hard, looking uncomfortable. Jeremiah turned away to look at the captain of the Highwind.

“Oh, hallo Cap’n Cid.” Jeremiah sat up in his chair, smiling

Plucking a cigarette from his mouth and, without preamble, Cid said, “Y’ever been to Cosmo Canyon?”

Jeremiah tongued the inside of his cheek, leaning back in his chair. “Nope. S’it nice there?”

Cid half-smiled. “We’re there. ‘Ere to pick up Nanaki, an ol’ friend. Thought yeh might like t’see it. Both of you,” he finished, nodding to both of them.

Jeremiah bounded out of his seat. “Course! C’mon, Zet! We’ve ne’er been to the Cosmos! I ‘ear the stars are sumthin’ t’see.” Then he froze. “Wai’—cosmos? Or Cosmos?”

Cid cocked an eyebrow. “Cosmo Canyon.”

“Aye,” said Jeremiah, nodding furiously. It all sounded the same to him. “Cosmos!”

Cid nodded, turning on his heel to leave the room. Jeremiah went after him, eager as a puppy. Zet followed.

Cid stretched as he thumped down the hallway, aware of Jeremiah walking behind him and Zet padding softly. Cid stopped and thumped on a door.

He stared at the little head that popped out. “Marlene!”

Barret threw open the door. “Marlene, wha’d I tell ya ‘bout openin’ th’door!”

Cid glared at him. “You brought a fucking kid!”

Instinct made Jeremiah back away. He’d been in enough bar fights to know. Zet took a breath, finally looking up the wall to stare between Cid and Barret.

The dark man glared at the captain. “Yeah, I brough’ Marlene.”

Cid’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “What th’hell you bring a kid for!? We’re going to th’goddamn Crater—”

“I kno’ where we’re goin’.”

“Then what the fu—“

“What do you ‘spect me t’do wi’ her? Marlene, git inside a moment.” Barret pushed the young girl past and slammed the door. “Wha’d’you expect? Shou’ I leave ‘er at ‘ome?”

Cid stared at him. “Tha’s better than takin’ ‘er to the goddamn Crater, Barret!”

“Sephiroth ain’t there no more. I ain’t leavin’ ‘er.”

“Y’left ‘er last time!”

“Las’ time Aeris’ mother too’ care of ‘er!”

“Y’couldn’t find a goddamn babysitter?!”

“I ain’t leavin’ ‘er again. Last time we nearly didna com’ bac’.”

Both men paused. Cid’s shoulders loosened. He swallowed. He looked away from Barret, a cloud of memory sweeping his face. He forced it away and looked up. “All right,” he said, quietly. He crushed his cigarette into his glove. “Sorry. Jus’ wanted t’tell ya that we’re approaching Cosmo Canyon. T’get Nanaki.”

Barret nodded, making a gruff sound in his throat. He started to close the door.

“Barret,” mumbled Cid, looking disgusted with himself.

Barret stopped to look at him, face dark and glaring.

Cid looked away. “If y’wanna bring Marlene….I’m sure she’d like t’see the Canyon.”

Barret glanced at Jeremiah and Zet, quickly averted back to Cid and nodded.

The door closed.

Cid stood there a moment, hands on his hips, staring at the door but not really seeing it. After a moment, he cleared his throat and went on. He knocked on no other doors.

He led Jeremiah and Zet out into Cosmo Canyon.

Tifa leaned back in a chair by Cloud’s bed, watching him sleep. She felt haggard and tired. Exhausted, emotionally and physically. She sat up, leaning forward, setting her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. She watched Cloud.

Things had actually seemed okay this afternoon. He was focusing on her table. Cloud was trying to fix her table. Somehow, that meant more to her than anything else Cloud could have ever done for her. She leaned forward, gently stroking the yellow hair out of his face. Oh why couldn’t he just get better? Why could he be like Cid and just--?

And just what? Bury everything? Hide what he feels behind that hardass façade. Just like Reno and Barret. Joke around to cover it like Yuffie did. And Vincent….Vincent he…!

Vincent didn’t bother to cover it up. He’d been miserable for a long time. He was just starting to come out of it. It seemed that in the midst of all these people, he was the only one who didn’t hide it. Though everyone deemed him the most mysterious.

What she wanted was selfish. She wanted Cloud to just be better so she wouldn’t have to deal with it. Well, was that so wrong? They’d all been through a lot, couldn’t they all just be okay? Why did God or Fate or whatever seem to intent on not leaving them alone? Cloud had been through enough for a couple of lifetimes, let alone his own.

Tifa sighed. The emptiness in her felt like a deep pit. A void. Like someone had forced a hundred ice cubes into her stomach. It was like when Aeris had died…


“Cloud stop!”

And Cid and Vincent had nabbed him. Cloud stumbled backward, sword flailing out of control, tumbling from his grip. He gasped.

Aeris noted none of it. Completely silent and locked in prayer, she had continued—utterly ignoring her companions—summoning the one thing that would save them.

Holy.

All of her divine concentration had been towards summoning Holy. The magic that would save them. It would destroy Meteor and rescue the Planet.

Tifa had, at first, been slightly jealous of Aeris. Because Aeris was wonderful and beautiful and seemingly perfect with just enough spunk to make her attractive to everyone. But time had passed and Tifa got over it. She knew herself well enough to know that she was just as good as Aeris. She shrugged it off. She had attempted to not think about the Cloud part of it. Well. If Cloud chose Aeris, Tifa wouldn’t fight it. She was too proud to enter a competition for his attention and she cared too much about him to keep him from being happy.

But then a shrieking whistle had risen and a brilliant flash of light. Then a shadow, a descending darkness had swept over them all.

Too late, they looked up.

“AERIS!” Cloud had roared.

Sephiroth had come from above and struck her down, right through her stomach. His sword left a blood trail through her torso, which leaked all over the dais. He ripped the sword out, not caring if she was still alive, not caring that it was brutal. The only thing that mattered was stopping Holy with the extra bonus of, of course, hurting Cloud.

They had all stood, frozen solid, watching her eyes open in surprise. She had taken a horrified gasp for breath as the pain ripped through her. The blood shifted all down her beautiful, pink dress—straining it a darker shade. She had swallowed and then had toppled forward. The life sparked out of her eyes, probably not even seeing her comrades, probably wondering where they were, just before she hit the ground. Her hair unraveled and her mother’s materia bounced a neat path into the water.

Tifa couldn’t even recall what had been said, if anything, between Sephiroth and Cloud. She had sat down, hard, staring at Aeris while Cloud, Cid, and Vincent had tackled the beast Sephiroth had left behind. JENOVA-LIFE.

When it was over, they had stared at each other in a disjointed circle. Cloud had stepped forward, breathing hard—though whether from battle or from grief, Tifa didn’t know. Cloud had gone to Aeris and lifted her head like one might a doll.

“Aeris?”

Tifa stood, leaning on Barret for support. Taking a steadying breath, she stepped forward to see.

“Aeris?” Cloud called again, eyes widening. He touched the wound and activated Cure. Nothing. It was too late.

“Aeris!” The breath he had taken was grasping and rough. “Aeris!”

Nothing.

Cloud stood then, fists clenched, staring down at the blood-soaked body. A terrible hatred shifted across his face. He leaned down and lifted Aeris as easily as one might a pillow. He cradled her in his arms like a child. Wordlessly, he walked past them, down the steps of the dais.

Cid attempted to say something to him as he passed but Cloud ignored him. The seven of them: Tifa, Vincent, Cid, Yuffie, Barret, Nanaki, and Cait Sith had turned as one as Cloud waded into the water.

Yuffie took a shuddering breath, swallowing, blinking hard to keep the tears away.

Cait Sith silently stood by, letting tears freely soak his whiskers.

Barret had stood tall and proud, not letting one tear make its sad way down his face…but his eyes were dark and shiny. He watched Cloud with Aeris as he had watched so many others…

Cid had shifted, leaning on his spear, terrible sadness etched across his rough features. He stared over the water, not really seeing anything. He took a short breath and held it, keeping control of himself.

Vincent let his claw hang loose and simply stared over the water, watching Cloud as he stood, silent for a moment, and then set Aeris into the water.

Nanaki gave a great howling roar.

Aeris sunk to the bottom of the lake.

The emptiness Tifa had felt—the void where Aeris had been—was similar to this. The cold darkness. And the fear. The What-Happens-Now moment. She had set this into motion—what would be the outcome?

No. It doesn’t matter. If you hesitate, you never do anything. At least if she tried she could say she’d attempted to do something. And if she failed, if she made a mistake, it was something to learn from. Right?

Sometimes that was so hard to remember.

The door opened and Vincent crept in. “Tifa,” he said, quietly.

She turned slowly, staring out at him with wide, tired eyes.

“We’ve reached Cosmo Canyon. If you wanted to come down…”

“Cloud…” Tifa murmured.

“He’ll be fine for a few minutes…he’s sleeping, Tifa.”

Tifa shook her head furiously. “No. I know the moment I leave, something terrible will happen.”

Vincent wasn’t sure what to say to that, knowing he’d felt similarly in the past. He sighed. “If you should need anything, do not hesitate to call. Send someone from the crew to us. We should be back shortly.”

Tifa nodded.

Vincent started to close the door.

“Vincent!”

He stopped, looking back up at her.

“Vincent…I…” Tifa grasped for words. “Nevermind.”

Vincent nodded and turned away. He claw clenched. Old habits died hard.