Woven Ties

Woven Ties

//


It was incredibly difficult to tear himself away from Vincent and exit the warm comfort of the double bed he was sharing, but Cid eventually climbed out and began to dress himself. But not before a good relaxing rest in the gunman’s arms, enjoying the buzz of their sex slowly ebbing away through their veins. There was a nudging in the back of his mind, only increasing the longer he lay there, until he finally knew he couldn’t put it off any longer.

“You stay here,” he said as he pulled on his pants and buttoned them up. “Yer don’t have to come with me.”

Vincent watched him from his position in bed. He had turned onto his side, unaware he was looking so obviously at the pilot dressing. “No. I’ll join you.” He was annoyed that their peace had been broken, but not more than Cid. Vincent enjoyed their times together in bed, the way they rested together, the way Cid would sometimes tell him about fond memories or future plans for them both. It warmed Vincent’s heart and made him believe he had a real future. A real hope for his life. But there was always something that made the future unappealing, something that he knew couldn’t be helped. He would live a lot longer than Cid…

“I dunno how long that doctor’s gonna keep me,” Cid said, slipping his shirt on and then recovering his jacket from the floor. “Yer might be waitin’ a while.”

Vincent merely blinked sensually at him, a gesture very much appreciated and enjoyed on Cid’s part. He grinned back as he stuffed an arm into his jacket, feeling cool since leaving the bed. He was fully dressed before Vincent climbed out of the bed, gloriously naked for the pilot to admire as he retrieved his leather suit and began climbing into it. Cid sidled up behind him and took a hold of the leather.

“Let me help you with that,” he drawled into the man’s warm neck. He placed a kiss there. Vincent paused, but his boundaries of personal space had long ago been shattered by the man pressed against him. With Cid’s unnecessary but enjoyable help, he pulled on his clothing. With the buckles buttoned up he fetched his heavy cape and fastened it snugly around him. He looked at Cid, ready.

It took them a few minutes to walk back to the hospital. It had only been a couple of hours since they had left it, but it seemed like days ago. Their time together in that room had been too quick and yet had seemed like a wonderful eternity. The pair returned to the reception where they waited for Dr. Bound to meet them again. Cid commented that the blood test could have taken longer. Dr. Bound replied that the hospital worked fast.

“Just my damn luck,” Cid grumbled, folding his arms.

Dr. Bound looked at him. “The tests I need to perform will require you to stay in the hospital overnight. I’m sorry, I should have told you over the phone so you could bring some things with you.”

“Yeah, you damn should have,” Cid replied loudly. He took off his jacket, feeling hot and stuffy in the warm hospital. Already he was uncomfortable.

The doctor looked at Vincent. “Mr. Valentine, would you stay the night also? Perhaps you might feel bet-”

“No. Vince, you go back to the Inn,” Cid interrupted, lighting a cigarette from a pack that seemed to have magically appeared in his hand.

A little ruffled by the interruption, the doctor frowned at the cigarette. “Mr. Highwind, the hospital is a no smoking zone.”

“Perhaps I should remain here with yo-” Vincent began, but he was cut off by Cid.

“I don’t want you to stay here,” Cid explained simply as he shook his head and snubbed out the smoking stick on his boot sole. “It’s just one night, I’ll be fine. I’ll phone yer tomorrow, yer can bring me some clean things. Okay?”

Vincent didn’t look too thrilled. There were conflicting emotions running rampant through his brain. One side was telling him to stay with Cid, while another told him to get the hell out of the hospital and return to the Inn. His loyalty to Cid was strongest, but by the pilot’s wishes he would leave. Vincent gave a nod.

“Good,” Cid smiled and cupped the back of Vincent’s head. “Don’t get too lonely without me,” he teased, and pulled the gunman in for a parting kiss. He released him and gave him a saluting farewell as he turned and started walking. The doctor, who’s jaw had slackened somewhat, blinked hard and, casting a look back at Vincent, strode along side Cid.

“Mr. Highwind, what happened to your arm? You’re bleeding.”

“Eh, sex.”

In the act of turning around, Vincent froze for a brief, surprised second.

//

The gunman didn’t return to the Inn right away. Once outside the hospital entrance doors he stopped and let the wind pick up his hair and cape as he stood in thought. It felt strange to be alone in this town, for some reason. He hadn’t realized how much Cid’s presence had become a part of him until it wasn’t there. His feet took him for a long wander around, his brain barely processed the streets and turns he took. He came to the beach and cast a gaze over the flat, shimmering horizon. The sun was beginning to go down, creating a pleasant color reflecting in the water. He enjoyed the sea, the sounds of the waves were calming, and the views were always breathtaking. He remembered witnessing one of the most beautiful of sunsets during his travels, overlooking the sea not far from Costa Del Sol. He had thought of Cid back then, and if the pilot would have appreciated the natural beauty like he did. Vincent would like to share it with him one day…

He made his way back to the Inn and returned nearly two hours later. It was almost pitch-black outside. He booked his room for another day and ascended the stairs for the night. When he entered he cast a look at the now tidy bed and wondered how empty it seemed. He shook his head. If Cid was going to make him this sentimental then perhaps he should take off for another few months again.

“Hm,” he chuckled. He closed the door and moved over to the one window, gazing out at the night sky. Would he have been able to stay in the hospital all night if Cid had wanted him to? He didn’t know… He was a strong man, but he had been subjected to terrors outside the realm of human imagination, and thus had developed some rather dangerous issues. His stronger, of course, was his uneasiness around medical instruments and equipment. Not surprising, but still embarrassing for a man of his power.

With nothing to do Vincent turned to the bed and began undressing. It almost felt odd not to have a pair of devious blue eyes watching him intensely as he removed his dark clothing, revealing smooth, pale skin. He remembered when he once had a healthy tan and more than one set of clothing. He wondered what had happened to his home and relatives…did anyone tell them that Vincent Valentine had been killed? Or were they just left to wonder? Anyone he knew would be either dead or old, he wondered if they would recognize him still. Perhaps…when he had Cid back, they could look up – no, the Turk he once was is long dead. It wouldn’t serve any purpose to go digging into the life that had been taken from him. It was best if they thought him dead…

The gunman climbed into the double bed and settled himself onto his side. His claw clinked softly, and he brought it into view, flexing it in the dark room. It would always brand him a monster, but at least now no one would ever be able to violate him ever again. Not with the powers he possessed. He was untouchable.

He was dangerous.

Hiding the shiny metal underneath the sheets, Vincent pulled them tighter and closed his eyes beneath a harsh frown. It seemed without Cid to tell him how much he was loved and how beautiful he was, he sank into a pathetic hole of depression and misery. How had he lived like this before his relationship? Oh, of course, he couldn’t not live… He took a deep breath and turned his mind to something a bit more pleasant. Cid. Their time in Rocket Town. The note game and the reward he received afterwards… his frown ebbed away. They were so completely different. One so human, the other a vessel of five souls, and only one of them was human. Yet Cid made him feel like a person.

Sleep claimed him nearly fifteen minutes later. His mind fell into a peaceful calm with the prospect of seeing the pilot again in the morning fresh in his head.

//

The rain was hardly a deterrent for Vincent when he woke up to the steady drumming in the morning. He dressed and looked out the window at the wet town of Junon, dotted everywhere with puddles and streams of rainwater. It was a cloudy, dark day, and a lot of vehicles had turned on their lights. Vincent pulled away from the window and left the Inn, heading to the airport and to the Tiny Broncho II. He found Cid’s duffle bag in the cargo compartment and left with it, making his way back to the hospital, getting thoroughly soaked along the way. Upon asking at reception for Cid Highwind, the woman behind the counter made a phone call to one of the departments, and announced that someone would come to escort him to Cid’s room. Vincent was confused by this, but left his puzzlement unvoiced. Someone approached him minutes later and lead him back into the hospital, down a series of wide and white corridors. It was a different direction than the blood testing room, and he memorized it unconsciously as he went. Eventually they came to a small, nearly deserted area with a mini, unmanned reception. Cid was bedded in an isolated room.

“Hey, babe,” Cid grinned as Vincent was gestured in. The escort closed the door behind him. “Miss me?”

Cid’s choicely pet name ‘babe’ was an irritable peeve for Vincent, but he could not even remember to scowl as he cast his eyes over Cid’s form. Machines small and large were situated around the room, most of them on and humming. An IV was inserted into Cid’s hand, plastered on with gauze. A wire was attached to his finger, and several more to his chest, monitoring his condition. Vincent felt uneasy, but because of his own unease or that of Cid’s welfare he wasn’t sure…. no, he was sure. Seeing Cid like this was difficult. What disturbed him just as much was his desire to rip the offending wires from Cid’s body. They marred him.

“Hey, Vince, you okay?” Cid asked, concern lacing his tone.

Vincent remained standing by the door. He held out Cid’s duffle bag. “I brought this,” he said, ignoring Cid’s question.

Cid watched him and then smiled. He could understand Vincent’s discomfort. He held out his hand, gesturing Vincent to come closer. Vincent did so, and held the bag out for him to take. However Cid pushed it aside and took Vincent’s arm, gently pulling him down. He reached up and placed a soothing kiss on the man’s lips. It emitted a satisfying, soft smack as they parted. Vincent immediately felt calmed. This surprised him.

“I think yer should grab a ride back to Edge,” Cid said, watching Vincent’s face. “I dunno how long I’ll be in here.” Vincent said nothing. Cid smiled. “Or yer can go back home.”

Home? Vincent inclined his head slightly in momentary puzzlement before he realized he now had a home, back in Rocket Town with Cid. Strange how he just couldn’t call it home unless Cid was actually there.

“Shera might talk yer to death, but you’ll have some company.”

Vincent shook his head. “I’ll remain here.”

“Yer sure?”

Vincent tilted his head again in response. “How are you feeling?”

Noticing a change in topic when he heard one, Cid took it. “I feel a bit shitty, but not too bad. Got this damn horrible taste in my mouth. Remind me to thank Reeve later for sendin’ me on that mission.”

Vincent watched him. ‘A bit shitty’ seemed a little understated, as Cid looked pale and he appeared to be sweating lightly. His kiss had been cool to the touch and Vincent could tell he was trying to look well.

“Yer wet through,” Cid realized, taking a sopping wet strand of black hair in hand. “It pissing it down outside?” Vincent nodded. “Shame we can’t go splashing in the puddles,” the pilot grinned. It was such a childish act, but during their time in Rocket Town they had done just that, one rainy day. It had been surprisingly enjoyable.

The door opened and in walked a doctor, noticeable by his lab coat. He wore glasses and his hair was cut very short. His gaze lingered on Vincent, and something unreadable flashed behind his brown eyes. Vincent watched back.

“Vincent Valentine, I presume,” the man asked, closing the door and holding out his hand. He looked down. “Is that a gauntlet weapon? If it is, could you please remove it?”

Vincent lowered his eyes before returning them to the man’s. He did nothing.

“I see,” the doctor understood. He cleared his throat and lowered his hand. “I’m Dr. Mason. I’m working with Dr. Bound to find an antidote to this toxin.”

“Any success?” Vincent questioned.

“Unfortunately not yet,” the doctor replied. “We performed various tests on Mr. Highwind last night. Save for a few results still pending we’ve determined nothing so far…”

“Hmph, all that pokin’ and proddin’,” Cid grunted, folding his arms carefully. He noticed a strange expression forming on Vincent’s face and took his arm gently. “Don’t worry, they weren’t that bad.”

Vincent turned his head from Cid That man read him like a book. He looked back at the doctor. “Will Cid’s condition deteriorate?”

The doctor eyed Cid before meeting the gunman’s eyes again. “Yes. But we can slow down the toxin’s rate of effect. It will give us time to produce an antidote.”

Having nothing else to say Vincent merely nodded slightly. The hand around his arm tightened in reassurance, and he realized Cid was more concerned for him than he was for himself. Silly man.

The doctor left them shortly after and Cid coaxed Vincent to sit down on the bed. As they spoke the gunman found himself relaxing slowly, Cid’s talking was calming his tight nerves. Not once did Cid mention his tests, nor anything remotely involved with the hospital they were currently sat in. He kept the conversations in Vincent’s interest. However, eventually the doctor returned and informed Vincent he had to leave for the day. Cid pulled him down for a parting kiss – a lengthy, involved kiss that left them both aching for more, and the doctor speechless.

“See yer later,” Cid smirked.

Vincent hid his chin behind his collar, aware the heat from his cheeks no doubt signified the color in them. He looked challengingly at the doctor, briefly meeting his eyes as he left. When the door was shut behind him he cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder, pleased that Cid was watching him back. Vincent left.

//

He was hit with a nightmare that night. The Inn’s occupants knocked on his door with worried voices before he was aware he had woken himself. He cast a glance around the dark room, momentarily confused by the noise outside. Then he remembered. Vincent pushed the clinging sheets off his body and swung his legs down. Sweat covered his skin, but he was cold. And naked. He climbed off the bed and approached the door, shivering into the cool room. The knocking continued.

“Hello? Are you alright in there, Sir?”

“…Scream, it sounded awful…”

“Sir?”

“…Shocked awake… thought it was…”

It seemed he had roused quite a number of curiosities and concerns. He took the lock off the door, the noise silenced the other guests, and opened it a crack, enough for them to see his face. He would not have opened it at all, but after waking them all up they deserved a personal apology.

“I apologize,” he said in a gruff, tired voice, lifting his gaze to find a man wearing the Inn uniform on the other side of the door. Next to him was a woman, and behind her was a man, both in their night attire and wearing concerned expressions. He could sense two other guests out of view. “I did not mean to wake you all.”

“Were you having a nightmare, Sir?” The Inn member asked. He was a tall, young man, perhaps an inch taller than Vincent.

“That was some nightmare, son,” the man behind the Inn staff said. “You were screaming bloody murder.”

Vincent’s brow twitched, ashamed he had done such a thing. “I’m sorry.”

“We thought someone was hacking you up,” said the woman. She was a short, plump shape, and her face was kind. “Are you alright? You look ever so pale…” It was then she – and they – noticed his eyes. They’d obviously never seen red eyes before, as they were all staring.

Vincent closed them and nodded, his heavy bangs swayed with the motion. He was always pale…He shivered again, a detail they seemed to notice, judging by their expressions. Vincent admitted he was appreciative of their concern, but he didn’t need this in the middle of the night, and neither did they.

“Do you want to talk about it, love?” The woman said before he could speak, adopting a motherly tone. The two people out of view muttered something and left. Now the screaming had stopped they could get back to sleep.

Vincent shook his head again and opened his eyes, avoiding theirs. “No, thank you. I won’t bother you all again. I’m sorry for the disturbance. Goodnight.” He closed the door and locked it again, then listened to the sounds of the guests moving away.

“Poor boy…”

“Something must have happened to him to get nightmares that strong….”

“…Did you see his eyes…?”

Vincent sighed as the last of their whispering faded away and closed his eyes beneath his furrowed brow. It was amazing how kind people could be in this day…but they were much too few and far between than the days he lived in. He shivered again and decided he wasn’t going back to sleep. His nightmare was fresh in his mind, reeling behind his eyes. He opened them and made his way to the bathroom, where he turned on the faucets and began to prepare himself a warm bath. He watched the water slowly fill the tub, unable to tear his eyes away. There was a bottle of bath lotion sitting on the edge, and he eyed it for a good minute before reaching for it and studying the label. Lemon bubbles. He took off the cap and poured a small amount into the running water. Cid always had a bubble bath, unlike Vincent who merely made-do with water, but during a shared bath he had to admit the appeal of bubbles was strong.

Once the water was relatively high he turned off the taps and climbed in slowly, adjusting to the hot water. He settled himself submerged to his shoulders and closed his eyes, leaning his head back. It was relaxing, and despite not wanting to sleep, his eyes felt heavy and sore, complaining at him. He opened them, refusing to fall asleep. The bubbles created mountains all around him, and he remembered Cid’s childish behavior barely a week ago, when he had scooped up a handful and slopped it in Vincent’s face. The memory brought the slightest of smiles to his lips.

The nightmare flashed back, and the smile disappeared. Vincent frowned angrily at the air before him. He was glad he hadn’t heard for himself just how loud he had screamed. Hearing his voice crying out in terror brought back memories of the one thing that it was responsible for it. But this nightmare had not only involved him, it had included Cid, and that must have forced the torment from his throat.

He remained in the bath until the water began to cool and the bubbles all disappeared. He flicked the plug out and rose from the tub as the water began to drain out. Stepping out he grabbed a towel, feeling the initial sting of the cool air. He dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist, entering the bedroom as he did. He found the small heater affixed to the wall and turned up the temperature. It must have been cold outside.

Something caught his eye as he was heading back into the bathroom, and he moved towards the nightstand. His phone display was lit up, showing one new message. Sent over five hours ago. From Cid.

‘Hey beautiful. Forgot to tell you earlier that I had a dream about us last night. It was smutty as hell Was hoping maybe we could act it out sometime. You’ll love it.’

Vincent allowed a smile to form as he closed his phone. He would happily replace his nightmares with Cid’s fantasies, any day. He was vaguely curious what sort of acting this dream would require. As he returned the towel to the bathroom and climbed into the bed, he hesitantly let his mind wander free about the possible dreams Cid could have. Some very explicit visions popped into his head, and for some reason he felt embarrassed, as though he were a schoolboy who shouldn’t be thinking of those things. He had never indulged in erotic fantasies before. He didn’t particularly want to arouse himself either, especially after he still felt shaken by the nightmare…but that was wrong, wasn’t it? That should make him feel better, not worse…especially if his dreams contained Cid…doing things to him.

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm his already flushed body. Control was less effective when he was turned on. But his mind seemed drawn to the prospect of erotic dreaming, it was new and his curiosity wanted to experience it. As a Turk he would never had let such personal distractions invade his sleep, but he had never had a lover like Cid before, and the pilot himself made it exciting… He didn’t exactly want another nightmare now, did he? So with a slight increase in heartbeat, Vincent let his imagination take him into a terrain he wasn’t so familiar with…but found he enjoyed all the same…

//

There was no more screaming at the Inn that night, and in the morning everyone was glad, albeit a little tired. Vincent moaned himself awake and, realizing what he was doing, shot up in bed. Thankfully it hadn’t been loud enough for anyone to hear. He ran a hand through his messy hair as a yawn broke free, and adjusted his bandanna which had fallen loose in the night. He smiled secretively as he remembered what he had been dreaming of. Cid was as good in his dreams as he was in reality.

At one point in the night he must have been aroused, due simply by the feel of certain things and the half-erection that he now sported. He calmed his body and relaxed; glad his situation was not any worse. A few minutes later he climbed out of bed and pulled on his clothes. Once he was fully dressed he grabbed his PHS and pocketed it before taking his keycard and leaving his room.

He left the Inn, glad that he didn’t bump into any of the guests that he woke up last night. Even that bad memory was not enough to dampen the good feeling he had woken up with. He continued through the center of Junon until he reached the hospital. It was getting a little easier to enter each time, but only barely. He looked forward to seeing Cid, and perhaps he would pluck up the courage to ask him just what sort of dream he’d had. He was dismayed to find, at the reception, that he was not allowed to see Cid.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” the large, porky woman said behind the desk. She had a strong air about her. “But we’ve been informed that Mr. Highwind cannot see visitors at this time.”

Vincent fixed her with an unnerving stare, and even a woman such as herself faltered. “I wish to speak with Dr. Bound,” he said.

The woman paused for a second and then nodded. She picked up the phone and dialed a number, then sat waiting. After a few seconds she spoke into the mouthpiece, asking for Dr. Bound to come down to the reception desk. A further few minutes later he appeared from the corridor to their left.

“Ah, Mr. Valentine,” the doctor said, his coat swishing behind him. Vincent wished that coat didn’t remind him of things. “I’m sorry to say that we can’t let anyone see Mr. Highwind. His condition has decreased quite rapidly overnight – it’s quite shocking, but it’s a good thing he’s here.”

Vincent was alarmed. He stared at the doctor, unintentionally unnerving the man with his crimson eyes. “Is he alright?”

The doctor paused in search of an appropriate answer. “He is okay. But I do not want to expose him to any chance of catching germs. The toxin has weakened his immune system considerably.”

Vincent’s eyes lowered as he listened. Disappointment flared inside him; he wouldn’t be seeing Cid today. How selfish he was being – he could only think of such a thing while Cid lay ill in the hospital.

During his silence the doctor studied him. “Mr. Valentine,” he started carefully. “You made it clear that you yourself could not be infected with this toxin…Would you allow us to test your blood? Perhaps you hold a unique agent that neutralizes the intruding infection.”

Vincent looked up at him. “No.”

“It would help us considerably –” The doctor tried.

“I said no,” Vincent repeated, fixing the doctor with a sharp gaze that wiped away all following questions. Vincent knew his blood would not be healthy for anyone. Hojo had put a lot of dangerous substances inside his body. The likes of which could probably kill anyone. Aside from that, it would only take one blood sample for them to realize he wasn’t normal, and Vincent had no desire to become someone else’s experiment.

Dr. Bound sighed irritably. “Then I’m afraid there is nothing for you to do here. You may come by later tonight, when we have taken the necessary precautions to protect Mr. Highwind’s immune system. Until then he must be kept isolated. And even then I still don’t recommend seeing him…”

The gunman barely nodded, his mind distracted. A loud ringing pierced the air and he reached for his phone. Tifa was calling him.

“Goodbye for now, Mr. Valentine,” the doctor said, turning away respectively so Vincent could answer the phone.

Vincent watched him walk for a second before looking back down at the phone. He thumbed the answer key and held the phone to his ear as he began making his way back out of the hospital. He felt disappointed, that good feeling he had woken with had completely vanished.

“Vincent. Where are you?” Tifa asked, her tone carried a slight concern. “I can’t reach Cid. Is he with you?”

“Cid’s in hospital,” Vincent told her, his voice monotonous. He stepped outside, his breath clouded in front of him.

“The hospital? Why? Is he alright?”

Vincent looked up at the sky. “He contracted a toxin from the wound he obtained…In the North.”

“…What hospital is he in?” She asked. There were faint voices from her line, probably Yuffie and Barret, droning in the background.

“Junon.”

Tifa expressed her sympathy, and asked where he was staying. She, like the others, knew Vincent would probably not be staying in the hospital. He gave her the name of the Inn and, after she told him again of their fruitless effort to find any information on his crystals, he hung up.

He was lost for action. Lowering his eyes from the dull, cloudy sky he watched people mill by, busy with their own lives. He felt cheated, somehow. He had finally found himself a semblance of normality, with a lover and a home, and his lover gets taken away from him; his fate undecided. He had ached so badly to see Cid, now that he couldn’t he felt like something had been stolen from him.

His feet started walking as he lost himself in thought, and when he finally looked up and took notice of his surroundings he realized he had left Junon completely and was entering the wildness. He took out his gun. Yes, he would keep himself occupied hunting monsters. That would take his mind off current affairs and pass the time. Plus, he could use the workout.

With this in mind he prepared his senses and set off in search of something to hunt.

//

Night began to fall by the time he returned to the Inn. His monster run had been too easy; there were not a lot of things that could challenge him in this world. Cerberus had been holstered and he barely looked ruffled from his hours of hunting. Thankfully, it had done the job of keeping his mind occupied, but he wasn’t the least bit satisfied. As he approached the Inn his phone started ringing for the second time that day. He checked the screen to find Tifa’s name again. He clicked and listened.

“Hey Vincent, we’re on our way to Junon. Barret, Reeve and myself. Meet you there in an hour, okay?”

He confirmed and put his phone away. He now had an hour to waste.

Luckily it sped by. He spent it cleaning his gun. He had pulled both little nightstands to the edge of the bed and laid out the various parts of his weapon on them. He had the triple barrel to fix back into place when a knock sounded at his door. He rose, his cape flowed behind him, and opened it to find the trio outside. He stepped back to let them in. Tifa was dressed much more heavily than her usual style, and when he looked he noticed Barret was too.

“To what do I owe this?” Vincent asked as he returned to his seat in the bed and completed Cerberus.

“Another monster has been sighted in the North,” Reeve stepped forward. This caught Vincent’s attention. “Perhaps it managed to get through our barriers and mutate, considering you and Cid destroyed the original group. But if we can capture this one the doctors can examine it and possibly develop an antidote to the toxin.”

Vincent stood from the bed and holstered his weapon. Finally, a course of action. He understood now why Barret and Tifa were wearing winter clothes. He nodded. “Let’s go.”