Woven Ties

Woven Ties

AN: Thanks for reading, I appreciate the feedback. Just to note: I know some things seem like unimportant, trivial details but they're there for a reason. I only hope they all come together alright later on, heh.

//


The following morning in Edge brought rain. A light patter drummed on the roof of Tifa’s home, rousing its occupants steadily. Vincent’s eyes slid open before he was even aware he had awoken. His mind was hazy with sleep, but as he blinked himself awake his senses cleared and he remembered where he was. His eyes fell on Cid, who had at some point in the night tossed over and now lay at an angle away from him. One arm had been thrown out and the other, Vincent felt, was still underneath him. He was snoring lightly.

Vincent sat up slowly, pushing his upper body onto his elbows. The duvet had been tugged from him and he noticed he was barely covered. He didn’t bother about modesty this time. The gunman picked up his clothes and quickly got dressed, sparing a glance at his hip where Cid had bit him. There was nothing there. He was pulling his cape into place to fasten the buckles when Cid groaned himself awake.

“Vince?” Cid mumbled groggily, frowning his hazy vision away. He sat up and brought his right arm in, flexing his hand. “Damn, my arm’s dead.”

Vincent watched him before buckling up the straps on his cape. He picked up Cid’s discarded jacket and shirt and threw them to him.

“Thanks,” Cid said sleepily as he ran a hand through his hair. His clothes had landed haphazardly across his lap and the rumpled mess of the duvet. He pulled on his shirt and looked over to where Vincent was stood by the wall, waiting. “How long’ve yer been up?”

The gunman gave his variation of a shrug; a slight tilt and turn of his head. It was these gestures that started those itching sensations in Cid’s fingertips.

The pilot got to his feet, tying his jacket around his waist as he rose. Vincent walked past him and bent to roll up the sheets like a polite guest does, and sat them and the futons neatly on the floor. When he stood and turned, Cid was there.

“I’m still tired,” he started, sliding his hands around Vincent’s waist sensually, letting his eyes look Vincent’s body up and down meaningfully. “Yer gonna wake me up?”

Vincent let a soft sigh escape him as he lowered his chin behind his cape collar. All those months apart had stored up some aching desires within the pilot, Vincent knew this. His eyes fell to half-mast before he raised his gaze past his dark lashes. Cid’s bold hands had fallen to his buttocks and were massaging them thoroughly, doing a very good job convincing his mind to agree. In fact they succeeded in distracting him enough for Cid to chin the collar down and ensnare Vincent’s lips in a deep kiss. He surrendered to it, feeling a pleasant buzz kicking up in his body. Cid’s tongue met his own and he felt a solid surface bump into his back. Cid pressed him harder to the wall, kneeing apart his legs and slipping his own between them. Vincent couldn’t stop him even if he wanted to.

“Alright,” Cid said suddenly, breaking away teasingly and turning to leave. “I’m awake.”

Vincent pulled him back.

//

Cloud returned home later that morning. Seventh Heaven was open and already host to a few regular customers when he walked in. Several of them greeted him, and he returned it with a nod. Tifa smiled at him as he approached the bar, having been talking to Yuffie. The young Wutai ninja was seated at the bar, a beverage on the counter in front of her. She listened as Tifa explained to Cloud the current situation and the lodgers they now had. Cloud was as puzzled as she about the thefts.

“I bet Vincent’s troubled,” Cloud said, unsheathing his weapon as he walked behind the bar, and propped it against the wall, temporarily. The weight was nothing to his strong body, but he had experienced once before that things move about in homes, and it was a likely case of catching them with a protruding weapon.

“Well, I think so,” Tifa smiled. Reading Vincent’s expressions was one of the trickiest jobs she’d ever undertaken. He barely registered any emotion, nor did he give any indication of his mood or feelings. He was an enigma, one that they had respectfully given space and privacy to.

Cloud nodded. Marlene ran in at that moment, having heard Cloud’s voice, a smile on her face. She was still in her pajamas.

“Cloud!” She explained, running up to him. He held out his hand and she grabbed it, happy to see him. “Did you finish your job?”

He nodded again as Tifa smiled and moved away to serve a customer. Cloud picked up his weapon and took Marlene into the house and to the kitchen, leaving Yuffie at the bar with Tifa. He was hungry, having had no food that morning. He made himself and Marlene some breakfast while she told him her daddy had phoned her earlier, and they were enjoying some buttered toast when Cid and Vincent appeared.

“Hey,” Cloud greeted with his cool, level tone, arms on the table with a slice of toast in hand. “It’s good to see you both again.”

“Vincent! Cid!” Came the excited tone of the ten year old. Marlene grinned at them from her seat, having got their attention.

“Oh, hey, kid,” Cid said as he pulled out a chair and sat himself down. “You alright?”

Marlene nodded exaggeratedly, happy to see guests. “Did you get a phone, yet?” She turned to Vincent. He nodded silently. “Can I see?”

Vincent paused before reaching into his gun holster and pulling out the custom phone. He handed it over to the little girl and stepped back. Cid chuckled.

“Wow. I’ll put my number in here, okay?” Marlene said. She was already thumbing the buttons before Vincent had even responded. He tilted his head as she rapidly entered digits into his phone.

Cloud smiled at the girl as he swallowed the last of his breakfast, and then turned his attention to Cid and Vincent. “Tifa told me what happened. What are you planning to do?”

“Vince wants to know why these crystals are worth stealin’,” Cid started, leaning back in his chair. “So we’re gonna –”

“Nibelheim,” Vincent interrupted. Cid craned his neck to him and he met his gaze. “I want to go to Nibelheim...”

Cid twisted around in his seat. “Vince, Reeve and his group checked it out. I was there. The things that weren’t swiped have been taken in by the WRO and locked away. There’s nothin’ there.”

Vincent was silent for a long time. His eyes had lowered pensively to the floor as silence swirled around the kitchen, broken only by the faint beeps of Vincent’s phone in Marlene’s hands.

“Alright, alright,” Cid said suddenly, turning back to a comfortable position in his chair. “I’ll take yer to damn Nibelheim.” He shook his head in vague defeat, knowing that Vincent was a man who needed to do things even if they made no sense to others. Sometimes Cid wished he understood him more. The pilot looked at the plate in front of Cloud and pointed at it. “There any more toast?”

Cloud nodded and gestured to the bread and butter still sitting on one of the kitchen tops. Cid was more than comfortable helping himself. As he did, Marlene thrust the phone out at Vincent.

“Here,” she said chirpily, “I’ve put Denzel’s in there, as well.”

Vincent took the phone back, wondering why he would ever need Denzel’s number. As he was putting it into his holster, he looked at the younger blonde. “Cloud,” he started, his deep voice still tinted with a thick tone of sleep. “Will you…do me a favor?”

Intrigued, Cloud watched him back as Cid clunked about behind him. “What favor?”

“I need someone to search the libraries,” Vincent said, “for information on those crystals.”

Cloud paused before nodding, his blonde hair bounced gently. Many libraries contained books on the planet and its formations, undoubtedly there would be a book of different rocks and minerals. The crystals might be documented in them. It was a good place to start looking.

“I’ll take Marlene with me,” Cloud said. “Two pairs of eyes are better than one.” He looked at Marlene. “Right?”

“Uh-huh,” she grinned.

“Take Yuffie with yer, too,” Cid mumbled as he turned around and leant on the counter, a plate of toast in one hand and a bitten slice in the other. “ Stops her comin’ with us. Where is that ninja brat?”

“In the bar with Tifa,” Cloud answered. He looked back at the little girl. “Denzel can come with us when he wakes up, too.”

“Great,” Cid swallowed. “That’s settled.” He nodded at Vincent as he took another bite from his second slice. “You gonna eat?”

Vincent shook his head once, dismissing the question. He was waiting to leave, Cid could tell. Never one to show impatience, Vincent merely stood and watched without a word. It amazed the pilot just how long he could remain like that until they left. Attempts to socialize Vincent had been in vain.

Finally they set off barely fifteen minutes later. Tifa had returned and announced she would go with Cloud and Marlene, leaving the bar in a trusted friend’s capable hands. Yuffie, annoyed that she couldn’t go with Cid and Vincent, opted to join the library run.

“This is turnin’ out to be a mission,” Cid pointed out as they approached the Tiny Broncho II. Admittedly, Cid wasn’t worried about the thefts, because there was no current explanation and therefore no real threat. Until there was, he might worry, but the pilot understood that both of the theft cases posed a concern for Vincent, and that in its own way involved Cid.

They were airborne minutes later, taking off into the gray sky and setting a course for Nibelheim. Unfortunately the Tiny Broncho II was very much like the first: Small. Cid couldn’t hold a conversation, nor could he look away for too long, but he did manage to glance back once they were well into the cool air of the higher atmosphere, stealing a wind-blown glance at Vincent in the back seat. His long hair whipped gracefully behind him, despite the wild wind, and his eyes were closed, protected against the moving air. If he didn’t look so stunning, Cid would have shouted something just to rouse his attention. Instead, he turned back into his seat and let his mind wander while half of it navigated.

A long, windy two hours later Nibelheim appeared on the horizon, approaching fast. Cid took the plane lower until they passed over the town, and set her down on the outskirts. It was sunnier there, but they paid it little attention as they entered the town together. Residents glanced at them briefly before lowering their gazes. Cid met their eyes as he lit a cigarette, realizing it was his first for the day.

The Manor loomed before them as they left the main town, even in the sun it looked menacing. Probably because they knew the horrible truths it held, to anyone else it may just look like an abandoned mansion. By the time they had reached it, Cid had finished his first cigarette and was deciding whether or not to start a second one. He glanced at Vincent, studying his impassive face and set gaze. He wondered if this mansion was an obstacle for Vincent, a mental barrier that he had yet to break past, but those sorts of issues seemed too trivial for a man of Vincent’s strengths. He never gave any indication he still suffered, and sometimes…Cid wished he would. Because he knew he did.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell yer about the files and documents,” Cid said conversationally, placing a cigarette between his lips and speaking through his teeth. He reached into his pocket for his lighter. Vincent said nothing. “Hadn’t spoken to yer in months…and it wasn’t exactly the best reason to call yer.” He lit his stick and took a savoring inhale. “To be honest I didn’t know if you’d actually care or not.”

Vincent remained silent, catching the scent of the cigarette smoke. His crimson eyes were locked on the building, but his focus appeared to be elsewhere. When the silence fell between them he took off, walking towards the Shinra Manor entrance. Cid took another suck on his stick and then followed him.

The door creaked loudly as it was pushed open, and a layer of dust descended from the top, floating down through the musty air. It swung shut after they had entered, but they walked on, attention sharp and ready for any creatures lurking about. They climbed the stairs leading to the upper floor with Vincent in the lead. His cape, Cid noticed, uplifted tiny clouds of dust on the steps as it floated behind him. Cid’s following boot dissipated them.

A scuttling drew both their attentions to the hallway on the left of the balcony as they reached the top, but it was merely a large rat that ran away at the sight of them. Vincent lowered his hand from his gun and continued to the right as Cid trod after him, his spear in hand.

“I fuckin’ hate this staircase,” Cid said as they revealed the hidden door and started descending the rickety spiral steps.

It didn’t take them long to reach the bottom. The dark, uninviting rocky corridor wound ahead as they stepped off the staircase. It was musty and foreboding, with the danger of lurking creatures waiting for them in the shadows. It was one of the most intimidating places Avalanche had ever been. Never would Cid have expected to find one of the most beautiful things down there.

“Third time’s the charm,” Cid muttered to himself as he stepped in line with Vincent’s slow stride. The man looked questioningly at him. “Third time I’ve been down in this house of horrors,” Cid explained, glancing at a deep crevice in the wall large enough to hide something nasty. “Ain’t never gonna get used to this place.” It wasn’t the look and darkness that Cid found disturbing, but the knowledge of what went on in the Manor that weighed in the air.

“Nor will I…” Vincent said, casting a glance at the pilot.

His response surprised Cid a little, by the fact that he had replied to a comment that hadn’t required an answer. Vincent very rarely conversed in irrelevant talk, particularly on his personal matters. What else surprised him was his answer.

“Bet yer’ve seen enough of this place…” Cid said quietly, clawing a large, sticky cobweb out of his way.

Vincent eyed the walls and ceiling. “Yes…” And then for reasons unknown he said, “I last saw this corridor when I confronted Hojo…” He paused for a long time, unsure why he had just brought up his past. “I wasn’t conscious when he put me in that coffin....”

Cid cursed, mentally. He knew that topic would find its way into conversation and he really didn’t want Vincent talking about it. The man was moving on, Cid wasn’t going to let him fall back into his past. Pushing some curious questions out of his mind, Cid said nothing. He was surprised again by Vincent’s openness. Cid knew eventually Vincent would find it easier to talk to him about his past, but he had been expecting a long time for that to come – yet quite suddenly he had spoken, if only shortly, of his dealings with that monstrous madman. They both bent low to avoid a network of hanging webs as they continued into the darkness, with Vincent a step ahead. His eyesight was far better than average for night vision.

Eventually they entered the room that had once held bookcases of data and documents. It looked exactly as Cid had last seen it some months ago. He followed Vincent through the door, letting his hand slide carelessly off the aged wood as he watched his partner.

Vincent stopped in the center and surveyed the room. The last time he had been in there was when his life had ended, and Hojo had destroyed him. After Avalanche had saved the world he had never returned.

Until now.

Vincent’s crimson eyes scoured the empty shelves and benches, remembering how it all looked thirty years ago. He closed his eyes, fighting the memories that had very nearly destroyed his sanity. When they opened he laid them on a small, stone bracket attached to the wall on the far side. It was used for torches, a little medieval touch Hojo had decided on. And Vincent knew why. He walked up to the bracket, grabbed it and, after a second, pulled it. It slid grindingly a few inches and a panel of the old, dusty wall beside it cracked ajar. Behind him, Cid uttered an obscenity as Vincent stared, eyeing it as though his suspicions had been confirmed. He gripped the edges and pried the panel open fully.

“How the hell did you know that was there?” Cid asked as he approached.

Vincent paused, unsure how to explain. With his back to Cid, he answered, “I overheard…” And left it at that.

There were some thin, aged documents inside, and after eyeing them decidedly, Vincent reached in with his good hand, breaking a large spider web as he picked up the papers and pulled them out. Cid was hanging close to him, curious. Vincent looked at the loose documents and a folder in his hand, and flicked carefully through the separate papers. They were about Sephiroth. Gathering from their secret compartment, they were details Hojo hadn’t wanted anyone to know about. The gunner closed his eyes. Hojo had ruined so many people’s lives, yet only Sephiroth had been given peace from the nightmares. He could feel Cid’s eyes watching him and he opened them again to finish looking through the documents. He slid them underneath the folder he had now reached and opened it. Dust fell to the floor from its cover, but his attention was on the image inside. It was the Galian Beast.

“What the…”Cid murmured in recognition as he edged closer, tilting his head to read the notes underneath the image. His blue eyes darted from sentence to sentence as he read. “Galian Beast was…caught around the mountain peaks of…” He summarized aloud, unable to stop. “…An unknown species of creature. He was too powerful to control so they locked him in – damn – they actually compressed his physical and mental form… ” Cid frowned, shocked. “Into a materia…”

“…Hojo didn’t know what to do with it,” Vincent said suddenly, his eyes focused on the image. “He didn’t want to destroy it, but he couldn’t use it…” He fell silent, his memories fresh in his mind. “…So he put it in me…”

Cid looked at him. He would never know the horror Vincent had endured, and he didn’t want to, but sometimes his mind was more curious than his heart. “He did the same with the others, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

The pilot took the documents from his hand gently. “Do you want me to burn these?” He asked.

The gunman looked at them. The image glared back, reminding him of what he looked like when he transformed. A monster. A trapped soul within a trapped soul. The Galian Beast’s mind had been all but ripped away from its body, and all that remained inside Vincent was a scattering of animal instincts and a hollow, aching pain of the creature that was once very much alive. It was unbearable at times, a mind-grating echo of a ghost that couldn’t escape. His sanity had suffered greatly during the initial adjustment period, until it was eventually smashed by Hojo’s merciless experiments. Thirty years in total slumber had reformed it into who he now was.

Again, Vincent replied to Cid with a hollow, “Yes.” As he watched the blonde man dump them in an old, steel trashcan and set them alight, he felt comforted by his presence. No, not comforted…grateful. Cid didn’t have to be down there with him, but he had come. Cid was admirably loyal, even if he moaned and bitched about it.

Cid caught him looking. “Yer checkin’ me out, there, Vince?”

Vincent shook his head in mild amusement and turned away, his heavy heart lifting. The pilot was good for him, he knew this, and yet…there were times he tried to resist it, and he didn’t know why. He gazed at the bookcases and shelves, knowing he wasn’t going to find anything more in here. He didn’t know of any more hidden panels, so there was nothing more for him to do down there.

They checked the other archives around the mansion, more for Vincent’s sake than anything. Cid knew it was all gone, but for some reason Vincent had to see. He didn’t want the gunner to be there any longer than he had to, and so after the man had seen for himself that there was nothing left, he managed to coax Vincent into leaving. They were held up somewhat with a pesky airborne critter blocking their path, but with a half-hearted battle Cid had reduced it to a dark, crumpled corpse, and they finally emerged from the gloomy Manor into a much brighter, fresher air.

Cid was taking a lungful when his PHS rang, shattering their newly returned calm. He fished it from his pocket and answered.

“Nothing in the libraries,” Cloud’s voice said clearly. “We found a few books on crystals, but Vincent’s wasn’t in any of them.”

Cid sighed. He glanced at Vincent to see he had heard. “Damn. Well, can’t say I was expectin’ anythin’.”

“Hey, you tell that chain smokin’ bum that he better thank us for this,” Came a deeper voice from Cloud’s background.

“That Barret?” Cid asked, surprised.

“He arrived at the bar just after you’d left,” Cloud replied.

“Take yer thanks and shove it up yer ass!” Cid addressed the dark man. Barret guffawed. “Me and Vince are done in Nibelheim, we’re heading back now.”

“Okay, see you,” Cloud said, and with a click the line was cut.

Cid put his phone away and turned to Vincent. He was nearly flapped in the face as a gust of wind sent the gunman’s cape fluttering, the owner of which merely twisted subtly to restrict the cape’s reach. Cid gestured with his head to the town. “Let’s get the hell outta here and hea– ” He was cut off as his PHS began to ring again. He found Reeve’s name flashing on the small screen and opened it. “Hey, Reeve.”

“Cid,” replied Reeve, “I need you and Vincent to report to Junon Hospital immediately.”

Frowning, Cid glanced at his partner, who looked back with attention. “What the hell for?”

“Your encounter with those creatures back in the North may have infected you with a dangerous toxin,” Reeve explained. “The company I collected data for discovered this possible infection and they recommend you both get yourselves checked out. You especially. You were injured by those monsters so you carry a greater risk of contracting this toxin.”

Cid was quiet for a second. “Well shit,” he said. He sighed. “It’s been damn near two weeks since that happened and I don’t feel the least bit shitty.”

“They suggested it could take a while to act,” Reeve replied. “But I’m ordering you two to get yourselves checked out. I don’t want any risks to your health. The doctors have already confirmed my men have contracted this toxin. I don’t know the details, or the severity of it, but I’d feel better if you were in the care of the best doctors.”

Cid sighed again. What an annoyance. “Fine, Reeve. We’ll head to Junon now.”

“Thank you,” Reeve sounded relieved. “I’m sorry I couldn’t contact you as soon as I received the news last night, but protocol dictates I ensure my direct employees get priority on such cases before secondary hired personnel such as yourself. I had to find them all this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it,” Cid said. “We’re off. Later, Reeve.” They bid their goodbyes, and Cid pocketed his phone for the second time. He began walking with Vincent away from the Manor. “Sorry, Vince, but it looks like the crystal hunt’ll have to wait a while.” Vincent said nothing, but his tense aura suggested he was annoyed by the new distraction as much as Cid.

They made their way through Nibelheim and out to where the plane waited for them. Cid started her up and they were in the air soon after. He altered course over to the ocean, heading for the east continent. It took a little under two hours, but at least they were on the same land as their previous destination, Edge.

The airport in Junon was the largest in all of the cities and towns. Cid had no trouble landing, and they were both soon heading into the town. It was busy with people, and Cid found it hard to believe they had managed to reconstruct everything so quickly after the attack from Weapon.

The Junon Hospital was, like the airport, the largest on the planet, and boasted the best doctors and surgeons for miles around. The duo entered the large hospital doors and approached the receptionist. Cid didn’t want to be there, and had it been any other injury he would have disobeyed Reeve. But because those creatures had been tainted with the Lifestream there was no telling what abnormalities they had.

“Cid Highwind,” the pilot told the woman behind the circular counter. He explained the situation to her and they were soon handed over to a doctor, who had been expecting them. He led them deeper into the hospital, through a section and into the East wing. Several people glanced at them as they went, and Cid knew it wasn’t him who attracted their attentions. The doctor brought them through a large, plain arched doorway into a simple room. Cid eyed Vincent, unsure how he would react to such places. The man appeared indifferent to his surroundings, but Cid knew that didn’t necessarily mean what it showed.

“It’s fortunate this toxin has a slow rate of action,” Dr. Bound, who introduced himself upon their meeting, said. He gestured to a pair of chairs for them to sit, but neither of them moved. He didn’t notice as he snapped on a pair of white, latex gloves. “The WRO commissioner has told me of your injury, Mr. Highwind,” he continued. “Could you remove your top layers so I might inspect the area.”

Cid gave him a skeptical expression. “It healed days ago.”

“Please, Mr. Highwind,” the doctor encouraged.

Cid sighed inwardly and, giving Vincent a glance, removed his jacket and shirt and slung them over the nearest chair. The doctor approached, and Cid didn’t fail to miss the narrowing of Vincent’s sharp eyes as he watched carefully.

“Ah, yes I see,” Doctor Bound said, crouching to better examine the area by Cid’s ribs. “It was a large wound, still a bit tender, hm?” He gently prodded it with his fingertips. The skin was still dark and slightly mottled. It had closed well enough, but the mark had yet to disappear. The doctor stood straight after a few seconds. “A mark of that size obviously broke the skin deeply,” he said. “It’s very likely you have contracted this toxin. I’ll need to take a blood sample from you both, but, I’m sorry to say, yours will probably come back positive…”

“Joy,” Cid said sarcastically, pulling his shirt back on.

The doctor made a face; obviously Cid didn’t realize the seriousness of his situation. He moved to the heavy desk and retrieved two long packets containing syringes and a tourniquet. “If you could take a seat and roll up your sleeve, this won’t take long.” He undid one of the packets and brought both it and the belt over to where Cid had sat himself. The doctor strapped the tourniquet around his bicep tightly and asked Cid to clench his arm as he took a cotton wool ball and cleansed the inside of Cid’s elbow. The veins stood to attention quickly. Dr. Bound seated himself next to the pilot, took off the cap to the needle and gripped Cid’s arm to steady it. He lowered the syringe and inserted it into the skin, puncturing the prominent vein. Slowly, he began to draw blood.

Cid glanced at it, annoyed. It was a sharp, small pain, and he could vaguely feel the slow withdrawal of his blood, but it didn’t bother him. He would rather have avoided it if he could, but toxins and the like were his weak point, he knew nothing save for a Cure Materia cast. I was best if he endured this. Cid glanced away from the slowly filling plunger and found Vincent watching the needle intensely. He was stood to their side, with a clear view of Doctor Bound’s actions. His red eyes locked unnervingly on the syringe. Though Cid was the one with the needle in his arm, the doctor was more at risk here. Cid knew that look in Vincent’s eye. He was on alert... no, on edge. The slightest wrong move from Dr. Bound could spell nasty. Cid bore his eyes into Vincent, and with enough willing he attracted the gunner’s attention. He gestured meaningfully for Vincent to relax, and the man stiffened indignantly, a silent denial that he wasn’t reacting any differently than usual. Cid smiled.

“Right,” the doctor said, retracting the needle and capping it safely. He brought up another cotton wool ball and placed it over the bead of blood welling from the tiny wound. “Hold that there for a couple of minutes.” He rose to his feet and placed the blood on a trolley tray. “Mr. Valentine, would you seat yourself in the other chair and roll up your sleeve,” he said as he prepared another cleaning wipe.

“No,” Vincent replied.

The doctor turned and blinked at him. His gaze faltered on the strange red eyes. “I will need a blood sam –” He began.

Vincent shook his head once. “I am fine.”

“How do you know you’re fine?” The doctor asked, bewildered.

Vincent said nothing. Cid eyed him from his seat, a hand still pressing the cotton wool to his arm. He knew the doctor wasn’t going to get any cooperation from Vincent.

“Mr. Valentine,” Dr. Bound started, “It’s imperative I take a blood sample. For your own welfare. If you’re queasy around blood we can do this with you lying down. If I don’t take a blood sample we won’t know if you have contracted this toxin, and if left untreated it could possibly kill you.”

“Unlikely,” Vincent said stonily.

The doctor opened his mouth to argued some more, and then deflated with no words. He looked at Cid. “Mr. Highwind, would you please explain to Mr. Valentine the seriousness of this test?”

“No. And hey, I don’t even know how bad this toxin is, pal.”

Dr. Bound was not appreciative of the response. He frowned as he turned back to Vincent and tried again. “Do you have a fear of needles? It’s quite common, and there is absolutely nothing to be afraid of. Your friend is right here…” Vincent remained silent. “Sir, I’m concerned about this toxin. It’s an unknown strain, but the more samples we received the more chance we have of attempting an antidote.” His tone took on a more pleading tint.

“Look, doctor,” Cid said, “Yer ain’t gonna get anything outta him. And believe him when he says he’s fine.” Although Vincent had indirectly told Cid once that he was almost immortal, Cid still didn’t know everything about the man’s super-human body. While his body may be able to withstand impossible amounts of damage, his internal systems might not work in the same way. True, Vincent had never caught a cold and had never been ill, but there was a slight possibility that something might affect him. Still, Cid trusted him.

The doctor could tell he was fighting a losing battle. He blinked hard and shook his head, defeated. He put the cotton wipe down and sighed.

Cid was already on his feet, screwing up the blood-dabbed cotton. “Well, if that’s everything, doc, we’ll be off.”

“Wait one moment,” Dr. Bound said as they began walking off. “The blood test results will be available in a couple of hours. I trust you gave in your contact details at reception so we can call you? If you have the toxin I will have to run more tests on you.”

Cid sighed bitterly. “Fuckin’ hell… Yeah, I filled in the details.”

The doctor nodded, glancing at Vincent’s cold shoulder. He watched as they both walked away and disappeared down the corridor. Once out of earshot, Cid glanced behind him and then stopped, grabbing Vincent’s waist and searching his eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, looking deeply into the gunman’s gaze. Vincent stared. “Yer really know yer alright, right?”

A smile twitched on Vincent’s lips, hidden behind the mantle of his cape. “I’m fine, Cid…I am able to…sense foreign substances within my body.”

“And yer don’t sense any?” Cid clarified.

“No,” Vincent replied, and then added bemusedly in a mimicking way, “I don’t sense any.” Cid’s concern was endearing, and he found his good hand rising to Cid’s. Contact. It was a strong sense of comfort, especially in such a place.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” Cid said, tugging him gently to walk. Vincent followed, and they had soon made it back to the main reception, accompanied by a few looks. Once outside the smell of disinfectant had gone, and they both felt better. Cid took in a deep breath of fresh air and exhaled loudly. “Well, we can’t leave just yet, and we’ve got a few hours to kill…” He slipped a sly glance at Vincent, a smirk tugging at his rugged features. “It’d be a safe bet to grab an Inn room, in case we have to stay longer…”

Vincent cocked his head slightly, but if he didn’t catch the meaning in Cid’s words, he certainly saw the hint in his eyes. He lowered his chin behind his cape collar as another smile graced his features that day. “That would be a safe bet, indeed…” He felt stiff and tainted after their trip into the hospital. Cid would wash that all away.

The nearest Inn they found was a few blocks away. It was a large building, with a dark, generic color theme for the interior. Barely ten minutes after paying for the room they were inside, lips crushing and body temperatures rising quickly. The room was spacious, but for its price it had better be. They were much too involved with their actions to notice the room, though. Acting like a couple of sex-starved teenagers, they pushed and groped, gasped and moved against each other until Cid found himself against the wall, knocking the nightstand with his knee. Vincent needed this, Cid could tell by his desperate advances and demanding kisses. He may not realize it, but the hospital trip had unnerved him, and his body was seeking the only thing it knew would smoother the feeling: Cid. He felt Vincent push into his mouth, meeting his tongue as the gunman’s good hand gripped Cid’s arm. His claw circled the other bicep, but he retained enough self-control to keep the talons angled safely. Cid’s own hands roamed boldly, greedily exploring Vincent’s body, running along his slim side and generating streams of tingling energy underneath his skin. Vincent wanted more.

But Cid had other plans. He twisted his body and jerked Vincent around, switching their positions and effectively pinning him to the wall. He forced the gunman’s body harder against it, limiting his movements as he took the lead, nuzzling his face against Vincent’s neck. He nipped the skin tenderly with his pinched lips, again a little lower, and again under his jaw. Lavishing these ministrations on the man’s smooth, pale skin dealt Cid his own pleasures. Every touch he made sent tiny bolts of pleasure throughout Vincent’s body, radiating back to Cid in a strange sense of sonar. The moans he drew from Vincent were perhaps just as strong a stimulus as Cid’s tickling was to him. To see Vincent in pleasure was Cid’s own bliss. He wanted to spoil the man, to treat him like this everyday, to coax a smile from those lips until it finally shone without encouragement…to see Vincent living a life with no weights on his shoulder and not a care in the world. Cid would look after him; ensure his happiness remained fresh and full. He lived to see that day.

Vincent’s head tilted, his eyes slid closed as Cid’s wonderfully talented and surprisingly gentle lips ghosted over his neck, as though undecided on where to place the next kiss. He felt physically frustrated, and he couldn’t understand why, but he contained his energy and allowed Cid to love him warmly. There was a building pressure swirling around in his chest, increasing with every heartbeat. The warmth of Cid’s body was radiating strongly, heating him up from the outside. A quiet groan of pleasure rumbled from his throat, merging with his breath. He felt the stubble on Cid’s face twitch as he smiled, pleased to pull such a sensual sound from his partner. A more audible sound was drawn from his lips as Cid’s mouth found his earlobe. He panted loudly as the pilot’s teeth scraped the soft skin; hot, moist breath breezed into his ear. He wanted to move, to contribute to the foreplay, but Cid’s body continued to press him into the wall, so he arched his back, pressing his chest harder into Cid’s in a suggestive manner. He needed more; he needed Cid against his bare skin, to feel his warmth without any barriers. His hands were arousing Vincent with their steady, skillful ministrations, massaging his buttocks in an almost soothing motion. Vincent groaned at their talent, feeling both blissfully relaxed and stimulated at the same time. Deciding to engage in more contact, Vincent brought his head to Cid’s, nudging his temple to receive his attention. Cid understood and met Vincent’s lips, pressing his mouth against his partner’s. He was gentle – teasing in his own way – coaxing Vincent to react if he wanted more. And Vincent did do. He latched onto Cid’s lips and deepened the kiss with a shove, forcing Cid’s head back. Cid’s tongue invaded his willing mouth, beating him to the invitation. Vincent’s good hand ran up the captain’s body to cup his head, making sure he wouldn’t pull away before he was finished.

Cid grinned into the kiss. It had taken time, but he had encouraged Vincent’s aggressive style, and he enjoyed feeling the pure need that oozed for him. It was him, and only him, who Vincent would ever want, and that created something inside Cid that he just couldn’t describe with words. Feeling they were both aching and ready for more, Cid released Vincent from the wall and – giving him no time to balance – spun him to the bed, falling carefully on top as Vincent toppled back onto the neat, double spread. His rapid position change forced a grunt from him, but it was quickly swallowed by the blonde pilot as, again, he kissed him deeply. He pulled back.

“I’m gonna ache tomorrow…” Cid mused on his future condition, gazing down at the beautiful sight beneath him.

Vincent looked up at him. “Live only for the now,” he replied wryly, his voice a deep, sultry tone.

Cid lowered himself on his lips again. “I fuckin’ will,” he agreed huskily.

Having taken it slowly to warm them up, Cid was going to waste no time bringing about the main course. They were both excited and aroused, and it took them no time disposing of their clothes. They shifted fully onto the bed once they were naked and Cid nudged apart Vincent’s legs so he could settle snugly between them, capturing Vincent’s lips as he did so, as though distracting him. He hummed his pleasure aloud as their erections pressed together, sending a delightful vibration onto Vincent’s tongue, not to mention a wonderful friction below. They ground together delicately, watching the other’s face for the expression they both took pleasure in. Cid dug his elbows in the soft bed either side of Vincent’s pale face and lowered his head, teasingly brushing his lips against the gunman’s as he undulated against Vincent’s hips. Their faces grew hotter until they felt feverish, and finally Vincent pushed his groin up in a suggestive, impatient hint, unable to wait any longer. Cid grinned and raised himself from Vincent’s body. He took a second just to gaze down at the beautiful, sculpted curves below him, marveling at the contours, taking pleasure in the way the gunman’s muscles rippled under the white skin as his body writhed slightly, trying to circulate the dissipating pleasures Cid had taken with him when he rose.

“Shit,” Cid’s grin disappeared. “We ain’t got any lubricant.”

Vincent pressed his head back into the pillow and let out a frustrated breath. He couldn’t wait for any more distractions. He tightened his thighs around Cid’s body, denying him permission to leave in search for lubricant. His body was aching for Cid, so much so he felt reduced to an animalistic creature in heat. He placed blame on the demons inside him, but that didn’t stop the rush of shame. Thankfully, it was all but swept away a second later by the tingles coursing through him.

Cid understood, but he had never and was not going to start making love to Vincent without some form of lube. He leant down and placed a butterfly kiss on the man’s taut stomach, promising him he’ll be right back, and then he pushed Vincent’s long, lean legs loose and quickly hurried off to the bathroom. In his experience there was always something useful in there. He returned a second later with a small bottle of lotion the Inn supplied to all rooms, and dived back onto the bed, grinning like a love-struck teenager. In celebration of his finding, he captured Vincent’s lips in a long, slow kiss, relighting the fire inside the gunman with a few talented gropes.

Vincent arched softly, his lips held hostage. He never resisted when Cid became dominant – something that they had both been surprised of at first. Vincent had been alone for too long, he had been his own leader, his own, lonely person. The thrill of having someone else take the charge was exciting, mostly because he had never had this in his life. It was new. And more than anything he trusted the pilot. But he also appreciated Cid’s daring. Had it been anyone else, they would most likely have been too intimidated by Vincent’s strong, scary manner. Cid was a special man.

“Nn –” A grunt escaped his freed lips as a warm, slicked finger pushed its way inside him suddenly. Excitement flared anew and he directed his heavy-lidded red eyes to find Cid’s twinkling blue ones. Again, Cid’s mouth descended on his own as his digit embedded itself further inside him. It curled and Vincent jerked. His hand and claw came to grip Cid’s biceps, clinging on as the pleasures began to increase rapidly, elating his mind to a heaven only he could enter. A second and third finger followed the first, adjusting Vincent’s body for something much larger, wringing moans of bliss from him.

“No more,” he rasped, breathing loudly. He almost yelped as a devilish tongue darted around his right nipple. Cid’s free hand traveled the length of his body, leaving behind a trail of tingles that were drugging Vincent’s mind. Cid’s touches were powerful; Vincent craved them so strongly it worried him.

The fingers left him and Cid’s mouth rose from the small bud he had been abusing. He stared down at the flushed, aroused form of his lover for a moment, enjoying the sight, drinking in the look of abandon Vincent displayed. Cid’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he growled. Before Vincent could respond – vocally or otherwise – Cid grabbed his slim hips and hauled him onto his erection, spearing him swiftly and to the hilt. He was met with a wonderful cry of raw pleasure mingled with his own. Vincent was tight and so deliciously hot. Bringing his head forward, he cast a hazed glance at his partner, delighting in the expression on his heated face. His elegant eyebrows arched above closed eyes under his bandana, his lips parted slightly. He was a picture Cid would never forget. “Vincent…” he breathed.

Cracking his eyes open, Vincent looked up at him. The sting was subsiding fast as his body adjusted to Cid’s swollen length, but he took pleasure in the pain. His body greedily pulled Cid in more, hugging his penis as Vincent’s heart pounded hard and fast. His lover was inside him, a bond – no, a connection – Vincent would share with no one else. He yearned for this feeling of completion; it reminded him that there was someone in this harsh world who loved him. Who gave him pleasures indescribable. Cid bestowed upon him a life he would never have had, and for that he was truly grateful.

Cid withdrew his length tenderly, bracing himself above the gunman as he pushed back in. He could feel the tight ring of muscle give way to his slicked erection, and it sent a shiver down his spine. He swooped down to steal a kiss, catching Vincent’s lips unawares. They were joined so intimately there was not a stronger moment between them. Cid’s mouth planted feathery touches along the smooth skin of Vincent’s cheek, past his eye to the red bandanna around his forehead. Cid had never seen beneath it, but he knew it was worn for a reason. He nuzzled Vincent’s hair out the way and sought out a defined cheekbone, enjoying the soft, content sigh that escaped his partner.

“Cid…” Vincent’s tone was soft and drawn out, almost sleepy. But he was far from tired. The gentle caresses on his skin were tender and warming, but they alone could not smoother the intense fires of arousal blazing through his body. He lifted and dropped his hips slowly, feeling Cid’s length slide in and out by his movements, and continued to do so in a graceful, slow fashion until Cid was meeting his actions. They were already sweaty, but it was merely a detail they had become accustomed to during their times of intimacy. Vincent’s thighs found grip on either side of Cid’s form, loose enough for the pilot to move.

Cid increased their pace, bucking into Vincent, wracking his body with steady waves of pleasure. A grunt escaped him as he lifted himself up, parting from Vincent’s lips. He gripped the man’s backside and moved in and out lovingly. He was teasing. Vincent wanted nothing more than mind-blowing pleasure, but Cid was delivering him a frustratingly gentle buzz, bumping into him softly.

Vincent gripped the bed sheets, tearing a hole almost immediately with his claw. He pushed his head back and groaned, trying to increase the pace with his own hips. But Cid held them down, tormenting him. Vincent growled, squirming suggestively. When that didn’t get him any harder treatment, he resorted to glaring. Those crimson eyes could turn everyone running away full pelt.

But Cid was not affected. He took a hand from Vincent’s buttock and wrapped it around Vincent’s length. It resulted in a harsh gasp, and the glare was broken as his head was thrown back. Cid smirked, panting, and worked his hand in time with his own slow thrusts. Vincent was not satisfied for long. Thankfully, the pilot couldn’t keep up his teasing either. He released the gunman’s erection and grabbed his hips, earning a curious, flush-faced glance from the pair of red eyes. With a new stability, Cid withdrew slowly, and then rammed hard into Vincent, driving his erection in to the hilt, grazing the man’s prostate gland.

Vincent howled. A loud, deep noise of unimaginable pleasure.

Cid thrust into him, pacing himself fast and deep, angling himself to hit that spot each and every time. He had Vincent writhing beneath him, gasping unabashedly, panting for air as every buck forced it from his lungs. Cid planted his hands on the bed either side of the man and delivered rapid, hard pistons. The tight heat around his length seemed to increase as Vincent’s building climax mounted. It was incredible. He forced his blue eyes open to gaze down at the squirming gunman, earning him a beautiful view of the once pristine, composed man, now moaning and writhing beneath him. To be able to reduce Vincent to this…

“Aaha!”

A grin escaped him. Vincent’s gasps were a treat to Cid, a real treasure to cherish and remember. The pilot laid himself over Vincent, still pumping into his body, and embraced him as he took those open lips in a hot, passionate kiss. He flipped their positions, noticing that Vincent was almost too drunk on pleasure to register the change. Cid thrust into him from his bottom place, holding him firm as he sucked and nibbled on the sensitive skin by Vincent’s collarbone. He closed his eyes and felt the pushes to his lover’s body rock him on top of his own, providing Vincent with friction for his neglected length. He felt the weight shift, and opened his eyes to find Vincent’s long, lean arms bracing himself either side of the pilot. He was rocking back. Cid let a hand roam over the ex-Turk’s chest, exploring the man scars still left unhealed on his beautiful torso. Vincent had once told him that they had been inflicted before the monsters were forced into him. The rapid healing power of Chaos hadn’t affected what his body told him had already healed, no matter how badly. Cid reached forward and kissed the circular scar right above Vincent’s heart. The gunshot wound that had killed him.

Vincent sighed breathlessly, lowering his head to nuzzle Cid’s hair. He loved every touch Cid gave him, every bold move, every action the man made. He was attached to the pilot much more deeply than the word ‘lover’ could ever explain. Cid was his lifeline, his world.

Cid shifted suddenly, and Vincent found himself falling back, flopping into the pillows once more as the pilot followed him, still moving inside. Cid gripped his head and delivered sharp, shallow thrusts, eliciting a choked cry from Vincent. He whispered into the man’s ear, his breath ragged and quiet, but he had no doubt Vincent’s superior hearing made it out. He kissed him, nipped him, sucked him – loved him in the factual meaning of the word. Pleasure swirled about inside him in crazy, intense waves. He could only concentrate on increasing them, for both himself and Vincent.

Their pace quickened. Cid was pounding into Vincent in such rapid bursts that every breath was forced into a moan. The mattress creaked in protest, the sheets rode up around them in a chaotic mess – and then a cry erupted from Vincent’s throat, ripped from his soul as his climax exploded throughout him His back arched, pushing up both his own weight and Cid’s, and he came hard in between their bodies. His muscles clenched, tightening around the pilot’s erection, sending him over the edge. He thrust one last time and buried himself as deep inside Vincent as he could. He ejaculated forcefully, shuddering as his end rocked his body, pumping Vincent full of his seed. He jerked once more before they collapsed as one back onto the bed, panting and gasping.

They said nothing as they came down from their high, letting their bodies cool and calm, letting their breathing slow down until they were no longer gulping down air. After the minutes of silence and stillness, Vincent’s arm reached up on its own accord and encircled Cid’s body, drawing him, if possible, closer. His claw had punctured the skin on Cid’s arm, but they were both oblivious. The adrenaline running through their veins registered no pain, and the endorphins coursing inside them ensured they felt good for a long while afterwards. They felt at the height of their peace, wrapped in each other’s arms, listening to their heartbeats. Still joined.

A kiss was placed on the sensitive skin of Vincent’s neck. Another followed, and another, until Cid’s lips met his own, and they indulged in a languid, sated lip lock. The pilot’s hand came up to caress Vincent’s face, enjoying the smooth skin and the pleasant act of personal touch. They basked in the afterglow of the intimacy they had performed, knowing that it couldn’t possibly get any better than this.

They said nothing as Cid departed from Vincent’s body and settled comfortably beside him, bombarding his cooling body with tender kisses. They didn’t feel the need for words. Even when they pulled the sheets above them and sank into the warmth of the duvet and each other. Their eyes fluttered closed, and Cid gave a content sigh. He didn’t even remember his favored ‘after sex’ cigarette.

Their peace was shattered by the shrill ringing of a phone. Cid groaned, annoyed it had to ruin their rest. He untangled himself from Vincent’s limbs and fetched his PHS from his pants pocket. He brought it back to bed, craving the gunman’s body heat.

“Yeah? Cid Highwind.” He answered.

“Mr. Highwind. It’s Dr. Bound,” came the familiar male voice. “I’m afraid it’s positive… You’ve contracted the toxin. I need you to come back to the hospital; I have to run some more tests…”

Cid ended the call and stared at his phone. He glanced at Vincent, finding his crimson eyes already watching him…intensely? Cid huddled back down into bed and kissed away his expression. He didn’t like that expression on Vincent’s face…

“A little toxin never got Cid Highwind down,” he announced softly, smiling. He was pleasantly surprised when Vincent smiled back, closed his eyes and pulled him closer. Cid gripped him, feeling incredibly comfortable, but yet uneasy…