Woven Ties

Woven Ties

RandomGal: My y!Gallery account is still there. I recently set it to members only because I was concerned my art was being used elsewhere. (I suppose this could be pointless but it was a safety option anyway).


The journey back to the North was short, thanks to Reeve’s decision to take the Shera. She was piloted by a WRO soldier, who had been training with Cid for a few months. He was still rusty, but one of the only people who could fly the huge ship safely. However short it was, it still took a couple of hours to reach the northern continent. Vincent found himself outside the cabin’s quarters. This was always Cid’s room, even when someone else was piloting. The door slid open and he entered, immediately taking in the scent of his lover. It comforted him. Vincent stepped into the room and looked at the bed. It was inviting him, and he didn’t turn down the offer.

The sheets smelled the strongest of Cid, and as Vincent sat down on the soft mattress he brought a pillow up and pressed his face into it, inhaling deeply. He paused, realizing what he was doing. He could have been described right then as a pining lover. When had he become so sentimental? He was once a hard man, with little concern for those around him. Cid had molded him into something quite different. Vincent sighed, putting the pillow back down. With any luck this last monster they bring back will hold the cure for Cid.

The Shera landed in the North not long later. The WRO, Barret, Tifa and Vincent descended the ramp while Reeve remained inside, looking down at them.

“I’m afraid I can provide little support in battle,” he told them, his breath misting in front of his face. “But I will be on my phone if you need me.”

They nodded, and as the ramp lifted back into place the light from the airship was cut off, and they were left with only the moon for illumination. Vincent turned and began walking, determined to deliver Cid’s hopeful cure as soon as possible. Tifa, Barret and the team of WRO followed, wading through the deep snow. It was windy in the North, blowing a harsh breeze onto their faces. Vincent regretted not putting on more clothes. He noticed that the WRO were better equipped this time, with not an inch of skin exposed. They wore body suits and filter masks, protecting them from whatever form of intrusion the toxin took to enter the body. Barret and Tifa wore the exact same gear. But what stood them out from the WRO team were Tifa’s voluptuous shape and Barret’s bigger size. Vincent almost felt the odd one out…

They walked on through the chilling wind for what seemed like hours. The night only got darker and the temperature kept dropping. Vincent thought he was well protected against the cold, but he was shivering uncontrollably and wishing he had worn the spare coat in Cid’s cabin, no matter how silly he would have looked in it. He longed for that hot bath he had taken last night.

Snow began to fall, lightly at first, but as the time dragged on it fell heavier until visibility was poorer than Vincent liked. They stuck together with the gunslinger at the lead until they came to a familiar spinney, where Vincent halted them.

“We go around,” he said to the nearest person. Tifa relayed the message to the rest of the group.

No sooner had they begin moving did the air explode. Several huge monsters leapt from the cover of snow with a deafening howl. Their beady eyes glinted in the torchlight and saliva hung in laces from their gaping jaws. They looked different. They had a maniac, bloodthirsty gleam, and turned their heads in a gormless, aggressive manner. Despite looking almost identical to the original creatures, Vincent knew these were not the same.

“Vincent!”

He turned his head sharply and hopped nimbly back as a huge, heavy paw swung for his head. It would have concussed him had it connected. His gun already in hand, he took aim and shot it dead. Too easy. He squeezed off another shot to the head, just in case, and then lifted his gaze to the chaos unfolding before him. He quickly leapt to the aid of several WRO soldiers, colliding with a creature in a mid-air as it attempted to leap onto the trio. He brought his long leg into a crescent kick and it spun away, landing heavily in the snow. Vincent fell lightly to the ground on his feet, aimed, and unloaded several rounds into the beast. He turned and made a rapid count. There were four more creatures attacking the WRO. They only needed one.

As though sensing him for the first time, three of the monsters paused their attacks and turned their ugly maws to him, eyeing Vincent with their little black eyes. They all advanced on him. Having no time to wonder why the change of victim, Vincent flipped out of harms way, landing smoothly up to his waist in a deep patch of snow. It was falling faster and heavier, but with the WRO’s night vision goggles they would find it no obstacle. He, however, didn’t have their luxury. Vincent had superb eyesight; both for day and night, but unlike the technological advantages of a filter he couldn’t see through the falling snow.

“Vincent, behind you!” Tifa called, dashing as fast as she could through the snow to his aid.

Vincent sensed the blow a split second before it came down on him. He leapt and rolled through the thick snow, only to find he had been ushered into the path of another attack. He brought up his claw in the hopes of blocking, and succeeded in avoiding a deep injury. However the force of the blow sent him crashing into the slush, and he was given a millisecond’s glimpse of a grotesque face descending down on him.

“Hiiiaahh!”

The creature was kicked from view by a deadly attack from Tifa. It howled as it rolled away, obviously in a lot of pain. Vincent was already on his feet, his back to Tifa’s. They shared a breather before rushing their opponents. The loud shots of Cerberus cracked through the air, accompanied by those of the WRO. His monster went down in a spray of blood.

A warning shout pierced the air, and Vincent looked sharply to see why. He eyes widened and his brown furrowed in alarm by the sight he was greeted to.

The small valley of snow-covered hills was moving…black eyes by the dozen spotted the scene, floating above numerous sets of large, sharp teeth. There were more creatures than he could count. Where had they all come from…?

He had no time to wonder. The air was alive with gunfire, mingled with angry shouts from Barret and the terrible growls of the mass of monsters. Vincent opened fire, hitting one and two, swinging away from three only to find a good alignment for four. Five went down after, and Vincent spun back to take down three. Another moved to take its place, and another. He could hear shouts and cries from his teammates, but he had no chance to aid them. They were moving in too close, he couldn’t raise his gun in time and they were trapping him against the trees, driving him into the spinney. Sharp claws ripped through his leather, slicing into his arm. He whirled around and thrust his own claw into its temple. It went down, staining his gauntlet. But his move had exposed his back for those behind him, and they took advantage. He grunted in pain as they punctured his shoulder blade, and he managed to twist Cerberus and pull the trigger. He was fortunate to avoid damage himself at such close range.

“Barret!”

He heard Tifa call. He wished he could help, but he appeared to have the majority of the creatures attacking him. He stumbled free, pulling his ripped leather from the jaws of a bloodstained beast. It spat out the material it had torn free and advanced menacingly with twenty more. Vincent huffed, feeling the cold weather affecting his movements. He raised his gun, but no sooner had he done so that they pounced, one after the other. He jerked away, only to crash into a rear attack. He dodged and ducked, unable to bring up his gun. It seemed he had no choice.

Breaking away from the pack, he clambered up a snow bank, backing away from the horde of enemies. They advanced wickedly, seemingly grinning as they lowered their heads. Obviously they sensed he was retreating. But Vincent had a monster even they couldn’t outmatch. With enough distance from them Vincent bent his head and initiated the change. He growled in both effort and pain as his body enlarged and transformed. The monsters paused, confused and uncertain, and when the black mist surrounding their prey had disappeared, they froze.

A roar escaped as Vincent looked down at the dozens of hesitant creatures staring at him. The Galian Beast had better senses, and Vincent found the terrain was not at all as difficult as before. Without giving them a second to rethink their quarry, Vincent released a fury of fire attacks. They burst from his claws and missiled at the creatures, lighting them up before throwing them into an explosion of fire and fur. Howls and cries screeched into the air, but he continued to throw his magic. He spun with a growl to find one of the beasts had sneaked behind and leapt. He caught it easily with a crushing grip and flung it away, following it up with a fire blast. It was killed instantly.

By now he had pretty much cleared the monsters. The few remaining finally understood that he was much too dangerous, and so began to flee. They were struck dead by Tifa and Barret, who took advantage of their distraction. One remained – injured and alive. But as the WRO and the two members of Avalanche started to circle and trap it, Vincent caught sight and left loose a roar. He brought back his hand.

“No, Vincent!” Tifa rush to him, placing herself between him and the beast, confident the injured monster would not be able to attack her. She held up her hands, warning Galian to calm down. “We need this one, remember?” Long ago she had been scared of this Beast, but she had come to understand it was still Vincent.

The Galian Beast paused, realizing she was right. Bodies littered the snow around them, but this was the only live monster. Vincent bent his head and braced his body as he changed back. A second later he stood before them, human, cut and bleeding, but glad they had the hopeful cure for Cid’s condition. He ignored the murmuring of amazement from the WRO crowd.

“Everyone alright?” He asked, his voice gruff. The wind blew through the trees and stung his beaten flesh.

Tifa glanced behind at the team. “Yeah, amazingly.” She looked back at him. “You look a bit rough, though.”

He looked down at the shreds of leather hanging off his arm and torso. He was ashamed to see that his scars were on show. “Hm. I suggest we –”

“MONSTER!”

A scream tore through the air and a figure came rushing at him from the trees. Vincent had only just turned around when a sharp, deep pain sliced into his abdomen. He grunted, finding a pair of wide, terrified eyes staring back at him, shaking with uncontrollable fear. His gaze lowered to find the man’s hands attached to a dagger. The blade of which was buried in Vincent’s belly. He could vaguely hear Tifa’s shouts of concern and the rush of people approaching them quickly. Vincent grabbed the man’s hands and wrenched the weapon from his body. Blood splattered to the floor, and he stumbled back as the man stared in shock. He was grabbed by some soldiers, and the weapon was removed from his hands.

“Vincent! Vincent, are you okay?” Tifa was there, supporting his arm.

“I – I – I thought,” the sudden man stuttered. “H-he was a monster – just now, I saw it! I thought he was a monster, another one of those things!”

A large, burly soldier shoved him away from Vincent. It was Barret. “Where the fuck did you come from, old man?”

His explanation was garbled and faded to Vincent as he started spluttering an explanation. A hand was on Vincent’s wound, trying to slow the flow. He knew the wound couldn’t kill him, but it hurt like hell, and he was losing blood. Coupled with the cold his body couldn’t retain consciousness. Tifa’s calls were the last thing to penetrate his mind as he collapsed onto his knees. He was unconscious before he hit the snow.

“Shit,” Barret cursed, shoving the man into the hands of the WRO as he and Tifa bent over their fallen comrade. He turned Vincent over, freeing his face from the cold snow. “Vincent? Hey, Vampire, can ya hear me?” He got no response. Some of the WRO had approached in concern.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Tifa explained, tearing material from her own suit to fashion a makeshift bandage around Vincent’s abdomen. She pulled it tight. “Let’s get him back to the ship before he freezes.” She stood and turned to the soldiers guarding the terrified old man as Barret hefted the unconscious gunman into his arms. “We take him back, too.”

“What about the creature?” A soldier from behind her asked. Those guarding it watched her expectantly.

Tifa looked back at Vincent’s limp form and spotted his holster. “Sorry, Vincent,” she said lightly as she took out Cerberus and found the pouch inside containing his bullets. She pulled out a pack that was strapped together. Tranquilizers. Reeve had issued them to Vincent since he would be the likely shooter. “We’ll knock it out with these…but I don’t know how to work Cerberus…” She admitted sheepishly. Barret rolled his eyes.

“I can do that for you, Ma’am,” one of the WRO offered, stepping close.

Barret huffed and gave Vincent a small jerk. “Sure, but we won’t tell Vince here when he wakes.” He was met with a questioning head tilt, so he elaborated: “That ya used his gun.”

The WRO man hesitated. “…Um, perhaps I can just show you…”

And so Tifa was burdened with the task of loading the bullets into Cerberus’ chambers, following the nervous instructions from the soldier. She lifted the heavy weapon with both hands and approached the monster. After her first attempt to pull the trigger had been thwarted by the safety, she corrected her mistake and aimed again. This time three powerful shots erupted from the triple barrel and embedded themselves in the creature. It grunted before succumbing to the tranquilizers. All that followed afterwards was a long, cold journey back to the Shera.

//

Almost three hours later Vincent stirred awake. A soft grunt escaped him as his body registered a dull, aching pain in his belly. His brow furrowed and his eyes slid open slowly. He felt tired and weak, but despite this he forced his mind awake. Glancing around he realized he was back on the Shera in Cid’s quarters. Someone had put him in the bed and pulled the duvet over him, and as he stiffly sat up, he realized that the same someone had probably stripped him of his clothes – minus his headband. He looked down at the bandage covering his belly, knowing that it would probably have almost healed. A hand rose to touch it, but instead hovered hesitantly. The pain was throbbing, but he could endure it. That dagger had boasted quite a large blade for such a small weapon. Vincent raised his attention to the room. His cape and leather had been folded on a single chair, and his gun and holster were lying on the chest of drawers. He was tempted to remain in bed, where it was warm and comfortable and smelled of Cid, but he needed to know their status. He climbed out, sincerely hoping no one would come to check in on him while he was completely exposed, and unfolded his leather. It was clear he wasn’t going to be wearing that again. He glanced over his shoulder to Cid’s clothes drawer. Well, he had nothing else to wear…

Minutes later he had donned a pair of dark combats, feeling very strange in such different clothing. The waistband slipped past his hips, and while that gave enough length on the legs, it hung dangerously low around his pelvis. He stripped one of his leather belts from his outfit and threaded it through the combats, successfully securing the pants from falling too low. As he moved back, he realized that the need for some form of underwear was definitely in order. Nevertheless he did not feel comfortable dipping into Cid’s boxers…

“Fuck, Vincent. You wearing my underwear is HOT, ” would have been the comment, but still, Vincent paused.

However during the time it took for him to find and pull on a relatively smart navy shirt, he realized he would have to put aside his baseless awkwardness and rummage through Cid’s underwear. Once he had pulled on a pair, he hutched up the pants and tightened the belt so they wouldn’t be seen. He strongly hoped his combats wouldn’t sink any lower.

With his body decked out in his lover’s larger clothing, a tingle ran through him that he couldn’t describe. Ignoring it, he strapped on his holster, slipped on his boots and picked up his gun, heading for the door. He paused upon checking his weapon, finding the chambers were all empty despite remembering there remained two left after he transformed into Galian Beast. He shoved it in its holster and proceeded out of Cid’s cabin, making his way to the conference room. Reeve was usually found there. Along the way Vincent gripped his stomach. The pain had started to burn due to his activity.

The conference room door slid open and he entered. Tifa, Barret and Reeve all looked up at him. He suddenly felt self-conscious, but he held his gaze.

“Vincent,” Reeve greeted in friendly relief, standing from his seat at the long table. His eyes fell on Vincent new attire, and a smile crossed his mouth. Vincent noticed with some annoyance that Tifa and Barret were also smiling in that strange way. He ignored them as Reeve gestured to the chair next to him. “Sit, Vincent. How are you feeling?”

The gunner took the seat and sat stiffly. “Fine,” he lied.

Reeve saw through it. He chuckled. “You took some punishment today. You’ve been out three hours. Barret cleaned you up,” he gestured to the large man. “However I had to let the ship’s physician take a look at you…”

“I told ‘em you’d be fine,” Barret waved a dismissive hand before lifting the mug in his other and taking a loud gulp. “Told ‘em ya wouldn’t like it.”

To this Vincent said nothing. Apparently he was free to read like a book. Irksome.

“Well,” Reeve cut the tension. “I must say, you look better now. We have the creature locked away in the cargo hold. We’re now on our way back to Junon. ETA one hour.”

“Good,” Vincent muttered. He remembered the person who had attacked him. “Who was that man?”

Tifa shifted in her chair. “He was a civilian hiker, out with a partner,” she explained. Obviously the old man had told her why he was there. “They were attacked by those creatures and his friend was eaten. He was very distressed. When he saw you he panicked and attacked.”

Vincent made a noncommittal noise. He still felt tired and the pain in his abdomen continued to sting. Granted it had lessened, but he found himself wanting nothing more than to rest somewhere quiet and alone. He would do no such thing, though, until the creature in the hold was delivered to Junon.

“…Contacted the Biology department of the CSC,” Reeve was saying. “They’ve instructed us to take the creature directly to a Dr. Bound – a member of their team – who will synthesize a potential antidote.”

Vincent frowned. “CSC?”

Reeve turned his attention to the gunman. “Core Sciences Center. They are a multi-science company, with some of the best scientists on the planet. They asked for information on the original monsters, and it was they who discovered the toxin. They often work in coordination with the WRO, and I have sought their intelligence for many things.”

“Huh,” Vincent grunted vaguely. He eyed the commissioner. “Reeve…you told us there had been sightings of one creature…but there were hundreds.”

A troubled frown creased Reeve’s handsome features. “Yes, so I’ve been told…it concerns me that there could be so many in such a short time…I will look into the barricade I set up around the fissure. Until then, let us hope these new creatures are enough alike to provide us with an antidote.” Reeve looked at the cup of coffee in front of him. “Well, now this is all settled, Vincent, I suggest you grab some nourishment from the kitchen. The doctor advised you drink after you woke, but I’d prefer it if you ate, too.”

Vincent glanced at him. Reeve knew he didn’t need to eat regularly like ordinary people… But there was a gleam in his brown eyes that held some message, and so Vincent nodded and stood from the table. He paused, feeling lightheaded, but it quickly vanished.

“I’ll accompany you,” Reeve followed suit, mug in hand. “A refill on coffee is a must.” They left the conference room and headed towards the kitchen.

“So, what’s with the order?” Vincent asked once they had made it to the kitchen. He didn’t immediately reach for drink or food.

Reeve sighed and proceeded to make himself a new coffee. “Sorry, Vincent. But the reason I had the doctor examine you was because I wanted to avoid another incident like Mideel…”

Oh…Vincent understood now.

“It took a lot of power to keep it as quiet as I could,” Reeve continued, turning around while the water was heating up. “Thankfully not many people know about Chaos anyway…but it had me…concerned when Tifa and Barret told me you had been knocked out and seriously injury.” He watched Vincent for a moment before his tone chirped up. “I would be put at ease if you would eat something,” he smiled.

Vincent paused before he nodded. And silently he did as requested.

//

They arrived in Junon an hour later, as Reeve as said. Unfortunately the landing pad at the hospital was too small for a ship of the Shera’s size, so they landed at the airport and transported it there themselves. It was encased in a stasis tube; safe from any infection it could spread. They were directed to a rear entrance, where the beast was taken off their hands. Dr. Bound was there.

“Thank you, commissioner,” he shook hands with Reeve. “With this hopefully we can provide your soldiers with an antidote.”

“I only hope you can,” Reeve nodded respectively.

Dr. Bound glanced at Vincent. “Hopefully you will be able to see your lover again, soon.” Vincent blanked.

“Lover…?” Reeve cast a curious glance at the gunman as the hospital staff wheeled away the creature behind them.

The doctor turned back to the commissioner. “Thank you again, Mr. Tuesti. I will inform you on my progress.” With that he jogged back into the hospital, leaving the WRO to the night.

Tifa and Barret, having hung back during the exchange, approached them now. “We’ll be staying in Junon for the night,” Tifa said, glancing from one man to the other.

Reeve nodded. “Very well. I’ll be returning to headquarters.” He looked at Vincent. “Get some rest.” With an order to his troops, Reeve left with his team into the dark town of Junon. When they disappeared the night was left very quiet.

A heavy hand fell on Vincent’s shoulder, and he looked up to find Barret speaking. “C’mon, Vampy, let’s get some shut-eye.” He lifted the hand and began walking with Tifa. Vincent glanced back at the hospital for a long second before following them back to the Inn; his shredded leather and cape folded on his arms.

//

Vincent awoke the following morning to a cold room. He tightened the duvet around him and pressed his healing body further into the warmth, unwilling to get up just yet. Usually he wasn’t one for lying in, but his body required rest, and although it was almost completely healed, his natural systems usually urged for those extra hours to replenish his energy. He dozed off for a further half hour before he decided enough was enough. He reluctantly rose from the warm confines of the bed and shivered against the cool temperature. Wearing only the boxers he had taken from Cid’s cabin, he could feel every tiny draft. He quickly dressed and was strapping on his holster belts when a knock sounded on his door. He pulled the last strap tight before answering it.

“Morning,” Tifa smiled warmly at him, hands clasped loosely behind her back. “We’re going into Junon for breakfast. Come join us.”

Vincent declined. “Thank you, but I’ll pass.”

The martial artist cocked her head. “Aw, come on, Vincent. You could use a good meal. And besides – ” she added before he could refuse further. “You haven’t got anything else to do, have you?”

At this he paused. His silence was her answer. He sighed. “Fine,” he agreed. He turned back into the room to retrieve his gun and phone, and then left with Tifa by his side.

“By the way,” she said slyly, casting a sidelong look at him. “You look very fetching in those clothes.”

He glanced at her, a little surprised.

Barret joined them in the lobby and they left the Inn to find a good restaurant. Luckily they discovered a nice little hidden café with a high view overlooking the ocean. They were seated at the window inside, Tifa and Barret opposite Vincent. He glanced around, making a mental count of how many people there were inside, and all the escape routes. Old habits die hard, especially in a situation he hadn’t found himself in since he was human. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a meal out in public. He felt out of place. But as he glanced at himself in the window reflection he realized he stood out less so now he was dressed in Cid’s casuals. His gauntlet and red eyes were the only oddities spoiling his appearance.

When the menus came he was literally spoilt for choice. The breakfasts alone were some of the more enticing meals, but the fact that the only decent food he’d had in the past thirty plus years was Shera’s cooking, it was understandable that he felt a little overwhelmed by the menu. Vague memories came to him as he recalled the familiar meals. Memories of his father taking him out for a celebratory dinner; dining with a lady companion who he had later assassinated that night…Blood on the cushion… Turk life was not pleasant.

“Vincent, are you okay?”

He lifted his crimson eyes to find Tifa looking across at him. He must have zoned out. “I’m fine,” he assured her, but the glance she exchanged with Barret told him she didn’t believe him.

“I’ve tried this breakfast once before,” she reached across and pointed out the meal. “I think you’ll like it,” she offered.

Vincent nodded. He knew she was trying to help, and he was grateful because he couldn’t remember what anything tasted like. When the waitress came to take their order he asked for Tifa’s recommendation and a glass of water. Their server, a woman in her early twenties, took their menus and offered him a seductive smile. She twirled on her shoes and disappeared to prepare their food.

“Looks like she’s not the only admirer,” Tifa grinned.

Vincent followed her gaze to a pair of women across the café, eyeing him. He felt uncomfortable and said nothing, which made Tifa giggle. Barret shook his head with a smile. Vincent wondered if he brandished his claw the women would stop their staring. He realized he must not look as menacing without his cape and leather to hide behind. The gunner made a mental note to wear his mantle next time he stepped out in public, and to get his outfit repaired.

“So Vince, how was the chain-smoking blondie when ya last saw ‘im?” Barret spoke up. Being in the same age group, Barret and Cid had gotten along fairly well during their mission to save the world from Sephiroth. It was natural for Barret to ask.

“He was well enough to complain,” Vincent answered, remembering Cid’s dislike of the tests the doctors had performed.

Barret laughed. “Bet he wasn’t too thrilled being poked and prodded.

Vincent smiled distantly. “No…he wasn’t.”

Tifa watched him in thought. “He’ll be alright. You know Cid.”

Vincent looked at her and offered a single nod. He knew Cid would be, but he wouldn’t relax until he saw the pilot for himself, until he was cursing again, and until he was kissing Vincent.

With the arrival of their food came a new problem. As Tifa and Barret picked up their cutlery, he eyed his knife and fork like he would an adversary. The knife he could wield, but the fork would prove to be a problem in his left hand. He lifted his claw to try anyway, and then realized he didn’t want to look a fool should he fail. The fork switched to his right hand and he simply sawed his food apart with the edge. Barret let out a huff of amusement, to which Tifa elbowed him and sent him a glare.

The food was delicious, a good breakfast. A bit too salty for Vincent’s taste, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. They sat back once they were finished and indulged in a hearty morning conversation. At least, Tifa and Barret did while Vincent listened, sipping his water occasionally. He had relaxed somewhat, but he still felt out of place. He wasn’t used to sitting openly in public, since for the past few years he’d been avoiding civilization completely. The attention he received was unwelcome, and he wished his friends would finish their drinks and decide to leave.

His wish was granted twenty minutes later when they stepped out into the fresh air, having paid for their meals. Vincent was running through his very short list of things to occupy him that day when Tifa grabbed his arm and pulled him in a different direction.

“Let’s check out the town,” she suggested, grabbing Barret with the other and dragging them off. “It’ll get your mind off Cid for the time being.”

The last part she directed at Vincent, and he wondered how easy he had made it for them to read him like that. He allowed himself to be pulled into the main town, where Tifa released his arm and dashed to a pet store window, cooing at the small creatures inside. While she was distracted Barret slapped Vincent on the arm and gestured with his head for them to sneak off. Vincent sighed in amusement.

Junon town center was relatively large, so there was plenty for them to look at. And plenty of people to look at them, Vincent discovered. Bustling crowds walked by in the street and in and out of stores, glancing at them as they passed. He ignored them, of course, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling when he was in large crowds.

They walked by a weapons shop, which somehow reminded Vincent that he needed to get his leather fixed. There was a good repairer in Edge, this he knew, but he had never seen anyone else who did such a thing. He was grateful his cape was organic, it ‘healed’ itself. Otherwise he’d have lost it long ago. It was still a mystery, even to him.

Something caught his attention in a passing store window. Tifa and Barret walked on ahead as he slowed and stopped, studying the curious model watching him from the other side. He knew Cid would like that…so he stepped into the store and purchased it. He was given the object in a small bag with a ‘thank you, come again’, and exited to catch up with his teammates. They had finally noticed he was missing.

“Where did you wander off to?” Tifa asked, a curious smile on her pretty face.

“I saw something,” Vincent answered, walking on past her, not bothering to hide his purchase. He could feel Tifa’s curious eyes on it, and he didn’t blame her. He wasn’t one to buy useless things.

They continued slowly, side tracked by various objects in windows and stalls. Vincent lagged behind, feeling disinterested and distant from the town around him. His gaze fell to the cobble street as he walked on in thought. Finally, he could endure it no longer.

“Barret…” He caught the big man’s attention, who had been following Tifa into a small, quaint little store. Barret turned and looked back at him. “I’m returning to the Inn.” Vincent said. “I will see you both later.”

Barret nodded. “You checking in on Cid on your way back?” Vincent nodded. “Okay. If he’s allowed visitors then we’ll be by soon.”

Vincent turned and walked away after giving the man another short nod. He almost missed the sweeping tug of his cape as he turned. It was certainly lighter in these clothes, but he felt too exposed. There was no collar to hide behind, no intimidating appearance to push people away. He quickened his pace a touch, eager to reach the hospital in the hopes they had some news on Cid’s condition and the progress of the antidote. He completely ignored a very blunt, bold comment from a spiky-haired woman passing him in the opposite direction, who turned with a grin and watched him walk by. Did she not see the large gun he was itching to draw?

He reached the hospital, relieved to be that bit closer to the Inn. He approached the reception to meet the familiar face of the large woman passing documents to another. She recognized him after a pause, after which she got onto the phone once again to call the respective department. She spoke into the mouthpiece for a minute, listening and nodding, before hanging up and turning back to him.

“Dr. Mason is coming down to meet you,” she said, neatening a thin pile of papers.

Vincent stood by the reception waiting as she turned back to her work. He glanced at a passing emergency rushing through the doors and running past him. The smell of blood reach his nose and his crimson eyes watched the scene disappear down a short corridor as doctors and nurses dashed after.

“Mr. Valentine?”

He turned to find Dr. Mason tilting his head questioningly. However when he saw Vincent’s face he obviously recognized him. It must have been the eyes.

“Ah,” he smiled. “I have good news, Mr. Valentine. Thanks to the creature you and the WRO brought in we’ve been able to synthesize an antidote – however it is still in the early stages of testing, but we’re confident it will fight the toxin and cure your comrades.” He smiled again.

Vincent listened patiently. “Can I see Cid Highwind?”

“Unfortunately not yet,” the doctor shook his head. “But will we contact Mr. Tuesti of the WRO when the antidote has been administered, and I believe he has your contact details, so he will no doubt relay the message.” Vincent paused before nodding, and the doctor continued. “We have high hopes for all their well beings.”

The gunner raised his eyes to the doctors brown ones. “Was their condition…fatal?”

A brief flash of hesitation came across Dr. Mason’s face. “Yes. By their rapid rate of deterioration they would not have had much longer…”

Vincent’s eyes lowered at this information. He wondered how seriously ill Cid looked at this moment, but the images that spring to mind were too disturbing, so he closed his eyes and forced them away.

“I’ll see you again, Mr. Valentine,” Dr. Mason spoke up, seemingly unaware of Vincent’s discomfort. The doctor gave him a leaving smile and walked off back into the hospital.

Vincent left the hospital feeling a little lighter. Was that his worry gone? He was glad to hear that there was an antidote in the making, but he was still disappointed. He returned to the Inn once again and paced the room slowly for a minute. He had nothing to do but think, and his thoughts weren’t all that pleasant right then. He unbuckled his holster, put it on the nightstand that had been placed back in the right position, and laid down on the bed, hand behind his head. The item he had purchased sat next to his gun.

He drifted to sleep a few minutes later, but was woken an hour or so into his rest by a knocking. Tifa’s voice called gently from the other side, and he rolled off the bed onto his feet to open the door.

“Hey,” she was stood outside alone. “We checked in on Cid, but we couldn’t see him.”

Vincent gestured in acknowledgement. “I couldn’t, either.”

Tifa smiled sympathetically. She had shed her jacket in the warmth of the Inn and it was now tied around her slim waist. “Have you healed alright? I don’t suppose a stab wound would be very effective on you.” She smiled.

He lowered his head slightly in a light-hearted gesture and then looked back at her and gave a sound of amusement. “Hm. I’ve healed fine. Where is Barret?”

“He found a local bar, it was open very early,” she mused. “I left him there after we came from the hospital.”

Vincent gave a once nod. He paused and then gestured into his room politely since she was stood there talking to him anyway. She stepped in and he closed the door as she continued talking about what the doctor had told her. It was exactly what the doctor had told him. She found a seat on the edge of the bed, quite comfortable as she pulled her legs up and talked away. He supposed Tifa wanted company, and he was the only friend aside from Barret who she could chat to. He had received Yuffie’s conversations once before when they had found themselves in silence. They must see him as a listener, one who they could talk to without any comments. He didn’t mind most of the time, if they could make use of his presence then at least he was helping someone.


“…Have you been living with Cid for the past few weeks?” She asked tentatively after a long pause of silence.

Vincent looked at her, considering her question and the reason behind it. “I have, yes.”

A genuine smile broke out onto her face as she looked back at him, and he was reminded again of how beautiful she was. “I’m glad,” she said. “You were always on your own and…I know you like that…but I thought if you could experience friendship again you would be happier. I always sensed you got along better with Cid.” She glanced away. “He was always kind to you. Well, as kind as Cid can be.” She lifted her gaze and smiled again. “I hope he wasn’t running you ragged.” She laughed.

Vincent managed a small smile. ‘Running him ragged’ she said…well, in one sense he had, Vincent mused. He was surprised by how perceptive Tifa had been back when they had been fighting to save the world. He realized that despite his attempts to distant himself from them they had learnt little bits and pieces about him along the way.

Tifa remained talking to him for a further two hours, managing to coax some comments and opinions from the quiet gunman. She left to return to her own room, letting Vincent have his privacy back. He closed the door behind her and thought back on their conversations, intrigued by her intelligence and the fact that he had enjoyed her company.

His phone began to ring, vibrating noisily on the nightstand. He retrieved it and answered.

“Vincent,” came Yuffie’s voice. “Reeve has a job for us if you want to come with me. You could probably use the change of pace, right?” She didn’t wait for a reply, knowing she wasn’t going to get one. “It’s a search mission – missing person’s case. Reeve’s friend by the name of Peter Willis. Someone with your skills should be helpful.”

“I’m sorry, Yuffie,” Vincent replied. “Tell Reeve I decline.”

“Aw,” Yuffie moaned, but didn’t persist the matter. “Okay, I’ll tell him. How’s Cid doing? I heard the news from Tifa.”

“…I’m not sure yet.”

“He’ll be fine, you know that old man,” Yuffie chirped fondly. Vincent smiled. Cid detested that name.

“Yeah…thanks, Yuffie…”

“Okay. Well, see ya, Vince!” And with that she hung up.

Vincent put down his phone again, letting his thoughts wander. Perhaps he should have taken that job, it would have occupied his mind. But with a missing person’s case the time could last indefinitely, and Vincent was planning to be at the hospital as soon as he received word that Cid could see visitors. Plus, he was better suited for fighting and killing people, not sniffing them out. No, he would wait in Junon until he could finally see Cid…

//