Sanguis Jus Soli

Don Vonatello's Crib
Midgar, Residential Slums
11 AM
2 Days until Reunion

“What the hell happened here?”

Liutenant Baresy shrugged, “No idea, sir. Somebody roughed him up good though. We think it's Don Vonatello but we can't be too sure.”

“IDed his fingerprints yet?”

“No sir, we haven't bagged them yet. We were waiting for your go ahead.”

Sergeant McKenzie growled, “Well, damn it, get on it already!”

Baresy saluted quickly and then ran into the multi-level apartment. Making sure to be blunt, he walked into the room where Don Vonatello was still blubbering and crying uncontrollably without any clothes but for a fire blanket they'd wrapped around him.

“McKenzie says to bag everything up. Grab his fingerprints and let's go.”

The group nodded, still looking about in awe. The room was completely undisturbed except for the guards lying unconscious on the floor and Don Vonatello's blood scattered across the room. They could only guess at what 'See ya soon Vonnie,' meant in all the orderly chaos. There was also one strange item that Baresy noticed earlier at Don Vonatello's feet earlier.

Bending it over, he stifled a laugh and called the team over to look. On the paper was a checklist and the title was, 'The Nine Steps to Being My Bitch.' Sub-titled beneath the first in smaller print was written, 'So that you remember what I did to you.'

He looked over the list and stared at Don Vonatello, shaking his head. Despite him being a criminal mastermind he couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy for the justice that had come down on his head. Hell, the courts would've been more merciful with a death penalty. But this guy decided to take justice into his own hands and basically destroy the man that was Don Vonatello before.

“Gods,” Baresy shouted quietly as he found the ninth step. Reading it out loud so the rest of them could hear, “Step Nine – Psychological Horror and Redemption; followed by Punishment. Numeral One, present subject his genitals with applicable substitute and convince it is theirs.” They had wondered what to think of the prosthetic penis they had found, the blood-flavored popsicle, the blind-fold, and the odd blunt knife contraption.

Shaking his head, he looked to Don Vonatello and said, “He really bitched you up, didn't he? Gods, this guy must be sick to come up with all of this crap, but not as sick as you Don. Hell, for all the people that you tortured, I'd say you damn well deserved some publicly-induced torture and humiliation.”

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[9 PM]

Another day had passed and Cloud continued to get better. Vincent was hesitant to reveal that he was in fact happy that Cloud was getting better but he did feel so. In the down time he had since Don Vonatello, he had scoured the city for Sephiroth, but found nothing and no-one waiting for him.

Then, at one point, he needed to present his ID for a guard to let him into the Delacroix Manor, she being head of Space Operations, and also the city's foremost specialist on criminal behaviour. However, when he had reached into his wallet and expected to feel the familiar plastic mold that was his ID, he found a note instead which read, 'Sorry, I took your ID and kept it my place in hopes you might return someday. -S. Girl.'

Vincent sighed and told the guard he would be by later with his ID. He returned to the street and hailed a Taxi. Slowly, it pulled up and stopped. The passenger side window rolled down to reveal a middle-aged man saying, “Cash upfront today buddy. I got ripped off twice today, so today's your unlucky day.”

Shrugging, Vincent dug into his money pouch and produced a hundred gil. Tossing it through the window and onto the passenger-side seat, he climbed into the car and asked, “Do you know a place called 'Sub place' in the Residential District?”

The driver nodded. “Yeah, one of my fares asks me to drop her off there all the time. She's a regular so the place can't be too bad, right?”

Vincent shrugged, “No, not too bad I suppose. A great place to lose weight.”

The driver laughed and pulled off the curb. Slowly, he accelerated to forty, and leveled the engine off. Glancing back quickly, he asked, “So, you're one of those world-famous guys? Vincent Valentine was it?”

Vincent's eyes lowered as he realized it was going to be a long way to the Sub Place. “Yes, I am Vincent Valentine of AVALANCHE.”

“Thanks.” The taxi driver returned to paying attention to the road and said nothing else until they got to the Sub Place. As Vincent climbed out of the Taxi, the driver yelled, “'ey, I got somethin' for ya.”

Vincent went over to the passenger side window and looked in curiously. The driver handed over a small sack and smiled, “My daughter wanted me to give this to you. She said you would understand what she meant.”

Vincent took the parcel and waved the taxi off. Looking inside the parcel, he smiled for the first time in a very long time. Inside was a little coffin with one fist breaking through the wood. The claw looked suspiciously like his claw-hand.

On the side of the coffin was written, 'No rest for the sexy.' Vincent chuckled and closed the parcel, putting it in a small sack he carried within his cloak. He pushed open the door to the Sub Place and found the girl who had placed him in her room staring at him incredulously.

“Hi,” Vincent stated as he glided across the room ethereally. “I lost my ID here, I think?”

The girl continued to stare and Vincent sighed. He swung his foot into the bar and the girl jumped. Shaking her head quickly she said, “Yeah yeah I got it. Sorry, Vincent.”

Almost emotionless, she walked upstairs like a zombie, retrieved his things, and returned downstairs with them. She placed them in his hands and then tears of thanks began to form in her eyes as she stared into his.

Without warning, Vincent found himself returning a sobbing hug as the Sub girl clinged to him, thanking him relentlessly. A few minutes passed as she continued to sob with joy and hug him tightly and then she looked up with a glimmer in his eyes he'd never seen before.

She groped the back of his head and pulled him into a deep kiss. His lower part slowly woke up, groggily. He tried to gently push her away, tried to get her to stop the kiss before he became fully awoken, but she was relentless.

Finally, he had no choice. With great regret, he pushed her back onto the stairwell and turned and left. The door opened and shut and Vincent was gone.

The sub girl sat in a daze as she stared at the door. The anger she had seen in his eyes—had she just made him feel worse? Feeling regret clamoring within her depths as she rose to her feet, she couldn't help but feel like she had done something very wrong.

She thought the struggling was just a show but she had hurt his feelings and offended him. With tears of a different kind forming in her eyes, she dashed upstairs and slammed her door shut. There she remained for several hours berating and criticizing her actions.

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Cloud's eyes flickered open. Slowly, the bright room began to faze into a neat and tidy collection of shapes and things. As he became aware of the taste of his mouth, the bleach and disinfectant smell of the hospital, the regular humming and beeping of several pieces of machinery next to him, he then realized he had a massive headache.

Groaning softly, he sat up and placed a hand on his forehead. A bullet ripped into his chest as he lunged at Vincent. He remembered. Sighing, he hoped he hadn't caused too much trouble after he lost consciousness and looked about the room.

To his left, Tifa snored against Barret's chest, both wrapped themselves in a blanket. Jealous thoughts immediately flooded his mind but were dispelled with a quick shake of the head and a broad allowance of the situation.

He began to move off the bed and felt the unfamiliar pulling sensation of several needles in his skin. Grimacing at the odd feeling of his veins stretching a little, Cloud moved back to his previous position and, slowly, with great care, took off each and every one.

By the time he was finished, he was bleeding slightly from several places, leaving him a bit lightheaded, but otherwise was fine. Slowly, and with great caution, he swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood up.

A rush of blood came to his head and he gripped the sidebar of the cot to steady himself as the world went woozy. The feeling faded and the threatening darkness crept away as he stared at the wall in front of him, concentrating on its texture.

The metal of the bar felt strange against his skin. He shrugged to himself, blaming the fact that he always wore his gloves. Realizing his clothing situation, he was wearing only a hospital gown and his ear-ring, Cloud looked about for his clothes.

“Nice ass,” a dark voice came from behind him. Cloud blushed and turned, finding Vincent in the window. “Not your fault though, it was likely your father's. They don't care much for modesty around here, do they?”

Cloud scowled and shook his head. His throat hurt oddly and he didn't want to speak in his condition. Not that he minded, of course. He could usually communicate just fine without words.

Vincent glanced about the room and came in. Shutting the window and locking it, he stated, “I'm sorry for the late entry of the hero's return. I thought it would've taken you another hour or two to awaken.” Vincent turned and leaned against the window frame with his back, “You're just full of surprises, aren't you?”

Cloud shrugged and patted his body while looking dead-on at Vincent. Vincent studied the gestures and raised an eyebrow, “But wouldn't Tifa appreciate the view?”

Angrily, Cloud patted himself harder, now demanding his clothes back. Vincent shrugged, “Your choice. Personally, I'd think she'd be joyful if the first part she got to say hello to was either that ass of yours or your front end. Though it would be a welcome surprise to any of the girls, I'm sure.”

Cloud steamed inside his head. Seething in his gestures and movements, he pointed down at the ground and patted himself. Vincent pointed to a cabinet above the cot. “If you can reach your clothes, you can have them.”

Wanting nothing more than to rip Vincent's head off, Cloud climbed onto the bed and tried to keep his weak balance going as he opened the cabinet to reveal his clothes washed and cleaned for him.

Grabbing the articles of clothing, Cloud fell back onto the bed painfully. Vincent came over and smirked, “I am glad to see that you are alive. Now I can finally resume my plans to steal Tifa, make Barret my slave, and make you my bitch.”

Cloud rolled his eyes and began to slide on his pants when he realized Vincent was staring. Furious, he got out of bed and turned Vincent around. Vincent chuckled, “My my, aren't we embarrassed?”

Despite his condition, Cloud managed to growl lightly at Vincent's joking demeanor. In the back of his mind, he found it really strange. Vincent was never light-hearted. What had happened to him?

After he pulled on his pants, Cloud threw the gown over Vincent's head with a smirk and pulled on his shirt and belt. Vincent calmly took the thing off and looked over to a sleeping Tifa and Barret. “What about them? You going to leave them in the dark?”

Cloud shook his head. Then he remembered what he was doing the night before he was shot. Reaching into his deep pocket, Cloud pulled out a sheet and pointed on it before handing it to Vincent.

Vincent looked at the list and raised an eyebrow, “A 'reunion?' “

Cloud nodded as he tied his boot strings.

“How interesting.” Vincent pulled his PHS out of his cloak and walked outside of the room, “I will summon them.” Vincent closed the door and began to call all the members of AVALANCHE up, informing them of the meeting.

Cloud stretched in the moonlight and smiled. Silence was a rare thing he got to enjoy ever so often. He didn't appreciate the beauty of silence until after the war against Sephiroth and the Planet. Silence meant peace, peace meant less death, and less death meant more life.

Tifa's eyes slowly opened and she caught sight of Cloud looking out the window with a calm expression on his face. Making sure not to wake Barret, she moved his gun-arm off her chest and walked silently across the room.

With all the love she could muster, she wrapped her arms around his torso and placed her chin on his broad shoulder. Cloud stiffened for a moment and then relaxed. Turning around to see her, he smiled and pecked her on the cheeks.

She grinned and shook her head as she wrapped her arms around him again, this time grabbing him from the front. With a sigh of relief Tifa collapsed against him and said, “Thanks for living.”

He felt odd and unsure of what to say or do in return. She seemed content to just hold him against herself so he let her.

Vincent opened the door noiselessly and closed it behind himself without a sound. Regretting his interrupting of the two lovers, he glided over to Cloud noiselessly and said, “Cloud, we have a potential problem.”