Vincent Comes Home

Nevaeh Bluden—Please be patient with me. I know it seems as though I’m digressing—but I just want to be sure that I give all the background info for what’s going to happen later on. And I know this is, primarily, a story about Vincent—and it will be. I’ve gotta make some connections first. But I’m not near talented enough to write for Vincent all the time. So I hope to build interest by not just leaving the other characters out in the cold. ^_^

I will, however, make note—and try to put in Vincent’s Chocolate more often. Thank you for pointing that out. :D

Thank you to Reck for your comments! I appreciate them. :)

This chapter is a little short. Sorry.

Music: Dundundundundundundundundaaaaaa!


“So then I informed him tha’, yeah—I’d seen Loveless, bored me outta my goddamn mind! Fell asleep for most of the whole goddamn production! And I—“

“Er, Captain.”

“—shook my head. Boy gave me the weirdest o’ looks. And he—“

“Captain Highwind.”

Cid leaned back on his hands and looked at O’Malley, who seemed as though he was trying, with some difficultly, to keep a smile off his face. Cid grinned back and removed his cigarette. “What is it?”

O’Malley let the rueful smile bloom across his face and he notched a thumb behind him. “It’s startin’ to snow, Captain.”

“It’s winter-time, O’Malley, I’d except some snow, if I were you.”

O’Malley nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m aware of that. Jus’ that we’re nearing the Crater.”

Cid stilled instantly. He looked to his left at Zet, who had stilled her laughter along with him. He gave her a nod and stood up. “How far?”

“About an hour, sir. Maybe a little longer if the snow gets thicker.”

Cid stepped past O’Malley to get a clear glance out of the huge windows. The white flakes were thin now. With any luck, it would stay thin.

Which meant, of course, that it likely wouldn’t.

“Oi! Zet!” Jeremiah was suddenly stomping across the bridge. “Where ‘ave y’been?! I’ve been lookin’ all over f’you!”

Zet stood, blinking a little to steady herself. She smiled at Jeremiah. He narrowed an eye at her. He leaned close to her and gave a little sniff with his nose. “’ave you been drinkin’?!” He sounded outraged.

Zet blinked, still the ghost of a smile on her face. “’Course not. Jus’ ‘ad one with Cid. That’s all.”

He shot a glare at Cid. “Jus’ one?”

“Yeah.”

“Lightweight.”

Zet blinked and burst out laughing.

Jeremiah shook his head. “I thought I tol’ you to stay in th’ workshop.”

“Well, on the Northwater—“

“And you know damn well that applies t’the Highwind too.”

Zet nodded, a little sheepish.

Jeremiah couldn’t help but smile at her. He shot another glance at Cid. “Yer a bad influence, y’know.”

Cid put a hand over his heart, clenching his cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “Who, me?”

Jeremiah snorted. “Well, go ‘ave a cup o’ coffee. We got t’—“

“Actually,” Cid interrupted, moving to stand with them. “We’re gonna be in th’Crater soon. So if you two are gonna go with us, y’need to get ready. And if one of ye would be so kind as t’go get Vincent and the others up so they can prepare.”

Cid didn’t wait for their nod. He turned to O’Malley. “Go get Barret Wallace. I wanna talk to him before th’ others get ‘ere.” His First saluted and strode off.

Zet and Jeremiah turned to leave. Once out of Cid’s earshot, Jeremiah gave Zet a very sly glance. “Y’seem t’be getting’ along better, now.”

Zet was staring ahead, and seemed not to note his look. In truth, she looked a little uncomfortable. “Yeah. He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

Jeremiah nodded, smirking.

“Why did you tell him I was scared of him?”

Jeremiah stopped walking. He crossed his thick arms and gave her a very frank stare. “’Cause you were.”

Zet’s mouth creased into a thin line. “I—“

“Don’ try an’ deny it.”

Zet crossed her arms now, eyebrows crooked in something akin to anger, but not quite reaching it. “How did you come to that conclusion?” She said it very evenly, very formally, and with little emotion in it. She asked as if it didn’t matter at all.

Jeremiah smiled his tired smile. “Not all fear comes as tears and screams, Zet. Sometimes it takes more subtle forms. O’course,” and now he scratched his chin. “Why exactly you was ‘fraid o’ him is beyond me. Yer dad didn’t beat ya or anythin’ and yev never been ‘fraid o’ me. Boys ever done anythin’ wrong t’you?”

Zet’s shoulders raised, “No,” she snapped, rather testily. “I just…,” she mouthed wordlessly. Angry now and unable to express what she meant, she started to turn away.

“S’it ‘cause you wanted ‘im to like you?”

“Like me?!” Zet flew back around, looking outraged.

Jeremiah took it back instantly. “Be friends with ya, I mean. Didn’ wan’ ‘im t’think y’were an idiot?”

“’Course I don’t want him to think I’m an idiot. He’s a famous pilot.”

“So ye wan’ t’be friends with him?”

Zet, looking hugely agitated now, said, instead. “I should go and wake Vincent Valentine. I’ll meet you on the bridge.” She stomped away.

Jeremiah watched her go, suddenly crooking his head to the side. “Well that don’ ‘appen too often.” He’d been right after all.


The last numbers Vincent recalled seeing were 9:13. He was certain that was in the pm. The evening.


No. No. No. Don’t be silly, Commander Valentine. The last numbers you remember seeing were 2:48 in the afternoon.

Remember? There was a little clock in library. You had automatically taken in the time when you’d come down to talk to Hojo.

Yes….


I can’t agree to this! You’re experimenting on humans! She cannot be—“

“We are both scientists, Valentine. She knows the risks. She has agreed to take part in the experiment.”

Vincent shook his head. “No. No. I can’t accept that. It’s too dangerous, Hojo!”

“Whether you accept it or not is irrelevant. You are a Turk, not a scientist—as you tend to keep reminding me.”

Vincent glared at him a moment. “I—“

“Ah, there,” said Hojo, with the air of one who has just been disappointed. “Here, I’d hoped the idiocy had ended, yet you open your mouth and prove me wrong.”

Vincent’s glare was hot. “You bastard—“

“Vincent!”

He stopped and looked past Hojo to Lucrecia. She was standing some distant away, looking rather distraught. She took a deep breath and turned to face him, putting her hands on her hips. “It is my choice to enter this experiment willingly. I know the dangers.”

“How can you possibly know the dangers? It’s an experiment, Lucrecia! By default, no one knows the dangers!”

“Vincent,” and Lucrecia tipped her head to one side and smiled, a little sadly. “You don’t even know what the experiment will produce.”

True. He didn’t. Just that it involved humans, Mako and Jenova. “Fine,” he snapped. “Enlighten me! Tell me what means could possibly bring around a good end for this!”

“It is not right by your standards, boy!” Hojo was glaring at him. “I do not think of what you will like and dislike when I decide to do something. This is for science, not for you.”

“It will involve my child.”

Vincent stopped, his gaze still hot on Hojo. It went cold instantly. His eyes unfocused and he swiveled his head about to look at Lucrecia. “Your child?”

Lucrecia looked away, almost as if she were embarrassed. “Yes. My child. My unborn son.”

Vincent stared at her. “Y-your…son…?”

“Yes, Vincent,” she said, suddenly forceful and firm, glaring at him miserably.

Vincent looked between her and Hojo. “Surely not…you mean…he’s…”

“Vincent, you knew that Hojo and I were together.”

“Yes, of course I did—but…but…,” The pain of rejection roared up and bit at him. He mouthed soundlessly for a moment.

“Is that also wrong by your standards, boy?”

Vincent glared at him, disgusted. He leapt on that, ignoring the pain tightening his chest. “Of course it is! That child—injected with Mako and cells from Jenova! Using her as some kind of host!? How selfish and cruel to—“

“Oh, I shall be very curious as to who informed you of that classified information,” said Hojo, casting a sly, almost menacing glance at Lucrecia.

“—to sacrifice an unborn child! Not to mention—“

“Valentine.” Hojo stopped Vincent’s words with a look and the edge he forced into his voice. “I don’t care what you think of my plans. It is, frankly, no business of yours. I suggest you leave the premises immediately.”

“I will not—“

“Do it now. Or I will do it by force.”

And Vincent made the biggest regret of his life in that moment.

He walked out.


But not this time. Not again. He wouldn’t walk out this time. If only he'd known how right he would be.

Oh, the irony.

Vincent didn’t bother being sneaky. He thumped down the stairs. He was angry. Furious. Enraged. He threw open the door to the library.

Hojo looked up at him. It was a very calm look. Such as a man might give to a cup of warm tea or an interesting book. He raised his eyebrows at Vincent. “Ah, I should have known you would show up.”

“Where is she?”

“Who?” asked Hojo, innocently smiling.

“You know who I mean!”

“Do I?” And Hojo smirked now. “Well, if the Tooth Fairy stops in later, I’ll tell her you said hello.”

“Lucrecia, you asshole!”

The smile completely changed. “Funny you should ask.” The smile twisted and became something eerie and threatening. It was sickly sweet.

Vincent felt his shoulders rise. “What did you do to her?”

Hojo smirked again, hooding his eyes. “Only what she allowed me, if you know what I mean.”

“Where is she?!”

Hojo breathed a deep sigh, as if what he was about to say pained him. He looked at Vincent. “She’s dead.” He didn't sound very pained at all.

And he smiled the terrible smile again.

“You lie,” Vincent accused in a flash.

Hojo shrugged. “You come and ask me. I tell you. You call me a liar. Nothing satisfies you, does it, Turk? Oh no, nothing pleases an arrogant pup like you.”

“Where’s her son?”

“Sephiroth?” asked Hojo pleasantly, as if there could be another. “He is fine. Strong. We’ll be beginning his training in a matter of nine to ten months.”

“Training?”

“To be a—well, you know, Vincent, that’s not really any concern of yours, is it?”

Vincent didn’t even see the doctor move. All of a sudden there was a horrible burning pain in his chest. He took in a breath, stumbled and fell to his knees. He felt paralyzed and a wrenching pain ripped through his torso. He hunched over himself, sliding his hands up to the bloody, blackened spot in his suit jacket.

Witherton’s splattered brains…

He saw Hojo’s boot just before it collided with his face.


When Vincent awoke, he found Hojo leaning against the gurney, smiling pleasantly down at him. Vincent felt as though the left side of his face was numb. The rest of his body seemed as though it was on fire.

The first thing he did was attempt to get up. To get at Hojo’s smiling face. That evil bastard! He was gonna die!

And that’s when he noted the shackles. He stared at them, not comprehending, at first, what that meant. It took several tugs before he realized that he was strapped down entirely. He looked back at Hojo.

The sickly sweet, terror smile curled up into Hojo’s face. “Shall we begin, Turk?”

Vincent stared at him; all thoughts seemed to have deserted him. “What…?”

Hojo drew out a very long, slim instrument. There was a keen blade on the end. Hojo’s eyes burned. Carefully, Hojo undid the buttons in Vincent’s shirt.

“We’re going to open you up, Valentine.”

A flood of terror that he had not felt in many, many years slammed into Vincent’s brain. “What?!”

Hojo put a cold, bony hand down on Vincent’s collarbone, felt about and then suddenly stuck the little blade in.

With a gruff gasp, Vincent tried to pull away. It was impossible, strapped down as he was. “N-no! What are you doing?!” Beads of hot blood slipped between the torn folds of his skin and drew sticky arcs down his chest.

Hojo glared at him. “Are you deaf, boy? I’m going to open you up.” Hojo drug the knife down.

Suddenly, he heard a whistling shriek. He blinked, though he wasn’t sure if his dream/memory self did, or if he, in fact, did.

But suddenly, Tifa was sitting before him. She was staring at him—

“Vincent.”

…staring at him…

“Vincent. Wake up.”

And suddenly, he did. Not with any preamble or dramatic opening of eyes. He was just suddenly aware.

“What?” he asked, a bit testier than he probably meant to be. He felt the darkness settle over him. The cold wall that separated him from the rest of the world closed in around him.

“It’s morning. We’ll be reaching the Crater in an hour. Cid wants everyone who’s going in on the bridge.”

“Thank you.”

His messenger slipped away.

Vincent sat up, turned aside, planted his feet on the ground and put his head in his hands. He took a deep breath. He had to be ready.


At nearly the same moment, across the hallway and down several doors, Tifa suddenly jumped awake. Her eyes were wide and fearful, her heart raced and her breaths were shallow. A piercing shriek had awakened her.

She looked down at Cloud, fully-clothed and sleeping peacefully next to her. She had dreamed terrible dreams last night about him.

But that last bit…what was it about?

A beam of light…and…what else…?

She couldn’t remember.


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