Loveless

Cid, Shera and the FFVII world belong to Square, not me. 9. Loveless No More AN: The conversation between Cloud and Cid is almost verbatim from the game, when they were nearly ready to descend into the Northern Cave. Aerith was dead. Shin-Ra #26 was gone. Sephiroth beckoned. The world was in peril. Avalanche meant to save the world. Cid tried to make sense of it all, but it wouldn’t gel in his mind. The night before they descended into the Northern Cave, Cloud asked everyone to go home for the night, to say goodbye, and to figure out exactly what they were fighting for. Cid had an idea, but he wanted to talk to Cloud about it…maybe get a second opinion regarding this crazy notion he had. He called Cloud over to the great steering wheel. “Hey, Cloud, you ever see the play Loveless?” Cloud nodded. “Yes.” Cid granted Cloud a lopsided grin. “Yeah? Really? Well, that’s fine. They’ve been doin’ that play every summer, since I was a kid. An’ I remember seein’ it, just once…” Cid stared at his hands. “That’s when I was in Midgar, interviewing to be a pilot. I had some free time, and thought I’d catch the play. Now, I’m no big fan of the theater or anything,” he said, scratching one cheek pensively, “so this thing put me to sleep, just like I thought it would.” He chuckled, deep in his chest. He remembered how Shera had reacted to his sleeping form. She had just about cracked all her ribs as she tried not to laugh aloud, lest she disturbed the other theatergoers. She also let him sleep through the whole damn thing, nearly. “Finally,” he continued, “during the last scene, the guy next to me woke me up, tellin’ me my snorin’ was too loud.” Cloud snorted laughter, and nodded for Cid to continue. Cid shrugged, and said, “So about all I really remember of that play was the end…” Cid stopped, eyes half lidded in recollection. “The sister of the lead asks her lover, ‘Do you really have to leave?’ And the guy says, ‘I promised. The people I love are waiting…I don’t understand, not at all, but…please, take care of yourself. Of course, I’ll come back to you. Even if you don’t promise to wait, I’ll return, knowing that you’ll be here.’” Cid tapped one foot. “Now, I remember thinkin’, when I heard those lines…‘Fuck! What the hell’s he talkin’ about?’ But, you know…now I’m not so sure…” He nodded to himself. “…I think I understand…” He gazed off to the horizon, lost in thought. Cloud shook Cid’s shoulder to get his attention. “Hey, Cid…what is it?” Cid nodded again. “When this job’s done, this ship…I’m grounding it.” He stared at the horizon again, a million miles from Cloud, the Northern Cave, and the Highwind. “Yeah…yeah. That’s what I’m gonna do.” O-O-O-O-O Cid didn’t take the Highwind home; Cloud and Tifa decided to stay near the Northern Crater, and where else were they going to spend the night if he took the ship? One hour before sunrise, he made his way to the chocobo hold, and approached their black chocobo. It really didn’t have a name, because no one could agree on one. He personally wanted to name it Joe, to piss off the man who bore the same name at the Chocobo Races at Gold Saucer. Everyone else voted him down, because it was by general consensus that Joe was an all around nice guy. He beat the pants off Cid when he rode in the Races most of the time, but Cid tended to echo the sentiment. He approached the black chocobo. “Hey, Black,” said Cid, as he stroked the chocobo’s bill. Black whistled his greeting, and bent his absurdly graceful neck to be petted. Cid tacked the large bird, and led Black by his reins out of the stable and down the Highwind’s ramp. Barret was readying the buggy for his trek to Midgar. He inclined his head to Cid. “Hey, Whitebread, don’ go breakin’ yo skinny ass on that oversize chicken, ya got it?” “Fuck you, pal,” replied Cid companionably. He mounted the chocobo. “Listen, say hello to Marlene for me, okay?” “Will do, Cid. And you say hi to your pretty little wife for me, hear?” Cid frowned at Barret, and then cast his eyes down to the reins he held. “She ain’t my wife.” Barret raised one cynical eyebrow, rolled his eyes, and grinned as he bent to his tune-up. “Coulda fooled me.” Without another word, Cid wheeled the chocobo around, and made his way home. O-O-O-O-O When Shera saw a giant black chocobo as it galumphed up the walk, she was more curious than frightened. She peeked out of the window, around the drawn curtains. When she realized it was Cid who rode the beast, she had to stifle a tiny smile. He looked ridiculous. The chocobo dwarfed his sinewy form. His normally unkempt hair was wild, and it stood straight up off his head in all directions. The reason for this was his goggles were being used in the manner for which they were invented—Cid had snapped them down over his eyes. He dismounted the chocobo, led it to the fence surrounding their little house, and tied it to a post. He turned to the house, and Shera had to stifle another giggle. Cid walked rather…bowlegged. To heighten the hilarity, he grunted, swore under his breath at the chocobo, and adjusted his crotch as he walked up their lane. Saddle sore and grumpy, he let himself into the house. Long before Cid unlocked the door and came in, Shera ran to the kitchen and busied herself with making tea. She didn’t want Cid to see her peeping on him—more importantly; she didn’t want him to see her overjoyed expression. She never expected him to come back. Cid pushed the goggles to their customary spot on his forehead, cast his gaze around his home, and addressed it. “Hello, house!” “Hello.” Cid’s jaw dropped. He whirled around, saw Shera, and was surprised to feel a wry smile twist his lips. “Hello.” Shera cocked her head, and gazed at Cid shyly through the fringe of her hair. “What are you doing home?” Home. The word was sweet in Cid’s ears. He crossed the room to where Shera stood, and touched the tips of his fingers to Shera’s cheek; his thumb caressed her chin. “Shera, I need to tell you something.” For the first time in ages, he locked eyes with Shera. Their souls, old marrieds now, touched briefly, blue to green-gold. He led her to the sofa, and sat down with her. ***** …Do you really have to leave…? ***** “Shera, this…this is it. We go and meet Sephiroth tomorrow morning.” Shera sat stock-still, lest her body language give away her roiling emotions. She stared down at her hands, two small white mice that twisted about each other. A small tremor slunk its way up her spine, and she shuddered. “Cid, when will you come back?” Cid shook his head. He was having trouble with this. He cleared his throat, did an awful job at it, and tried to speak past the block in his throat. “Shera, I dunno if I’m ever coming back.” ***** …I promised. The people I love are waiting… ***** Shera gasped softly. “Cid…did you come home to tell me you might die?” Cid met her level gaze, and then dropped his eyes to his lap. “Yes.” Shera sighed. It sounded like November wind through dead grass. She nodded; she didn’t trust herself to speak, not yet. Cid waited for something, anything from Shera. He raised his countenance to hers when nothing came. “Koi, say something,” he said huskily. ***** …I don’t understand, not at all…but… ***** “I don’t know what to say, but I know that what you’re doing is noble.” Shera reached across the sofa and touched Cid’s knee, gingerly. She shook her head. “I don’t understand the specifics of what you’re going to do, but I’m behind you.” Cid frowned mightily. “Noble…I wish I thought the same way.” “But it is. You’ve always known how to take care of things…” He shook his head savagely. “No! Yer wrong! It’s you…it’s always been you. Ya always know how to make everything right. I…I emulate ya, and I look like a fuckin’ hero. Ya never get credit for all the good things ya done. I want ya to know that I appreciate everything you’ve ever done fer me.” He fetched a sigh. “You know the combination to the safe in the…the study?” Shera shuddered again. “Yes.” ***** …Please, take care of yourself… ***** “Everything worth more than a fart in a windstorm is in that safe. If I don’t come back, I want ya to have whatever’s in there. I want ya to be comfortable, if I’m not here to take care of ya.” “Yes, Cid.” He looked up sharply at the dejected inflection of her voice. Shera was struggling with tears. Cid felt the same way, but he bucked up. He took her hand. “Shera…Shera! Look at me…do ya think I wanna die?” She shook her head. “Who does?” He locked eyes with her, and swallowed hard. “I did, six years ago.” In the stunned silence that followed, he didn’t have to expand on the statement. She knew why he wanted to end his life. There was no need to explain what the loss of Skyler had done to Cid. ***** …Of course, I’ll come back to you… ***** The tears that had threatened now began to course down Shera’s cheeks. “Cid…I’m so afraid.” Cid nodded with a gamine grin. “Of which part? Are ya afraid of Meteo? Or of Sephiroth? Jenova? What?” She waggled her head in negation. “No. I’m afraid of losing you forever.” Cid laughed; a jagged, bitter sound. “I’m more afraid of losin’ you forever.” Shera furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?” ***** …Even if you don’t promise to wait… ***** Cid leaned back into the cushions of the sofa, and avoided Shera’s gaze. “What I’ve done to ya over the past ten years is inexcusable. I wanna come back, but if yer not here when I do…I’ll understand.” Shera said nothing. There was nothing to say. She thought about leaving recently—long and hard. Her level gaze was enough. Cid nodded to her, as if she had answered him. “But, ya know,” continued Cid, “when I’m there in that stinkin’ crater, I might just survive, ‘cause I’ll know I’m fightin’ fer the fate of the world. And I can’t die, ‘cause who the fuck else is gonna save the world?” Shera laughed through the haze of tears. “Who, indeed? If Lord Cid can’t do it, who can?” ***** …I’ll return, knowing that you’ll be here. ***** Cid smiled. “Shera, I’m not gonna die, because you’ll be here. Ya might not be waiting fer me, but I won’t feel so alone in the Crater if I know yer in this world.” He stopped, throat working. The lump was back, and this time harrumphing would not clear it. He spoke her name, and then had to press his lips together to stop them from trembling. He dropped his eyes to her lap, and plucked her hand from it. He met her gaze. “Shera…I’m sorry.” He shook his head hard, then continued. “Fer everything—fer the oxygen tanks, fer hurting ya, fer making ya feel like a piece of shit…” He stopped, and gathered his composure again. “And for Skye—I…I’m sorry.” He brought her hand to his mouth, and pressed it against his lips. He bent his head over her lap. “I’m sorry fer never marrying ya, Shera.” Shera gasped again, and began to sob in earnest. “Cid, that never was an issue!” Without raising his head, he nodded, and continued. “I know it wasn’t. But, I want ya to know that it wasn’t, because I always thought of ya as my wife in my heart.” He tried to clear his throat again. Again, the lump wouldn’t budge. “Ah, Shera…there’s something else in the safe fer ya. I want ya to have it, whether I come home or not.” He slowly raised his countenance to hers. Shyly, his azure met her gold. “Shera, when was the last time we made love?” She thought about it. Since Skyler’s death, they had continued to sleep in the same bed, and shared each other’s bodies—mostly from necessity. But the last time they made love? It was the last vacation they took together, at Costa del Sol…and the sweet, sleepy interlude last year. It was too long ago. “Six years, Cid. It’s been six years.” Cid smiled. “What about when ya seduced me in my sleep last year?” Shera blinked. “You knew? You were awake?” Cid’s eyebrows slowly climbed to his hairline, and he laughed. “‘Course I was. I can’t really stay asleep fer too long when ya grab on ta me and make me wanna bang the hell outta you.” He smiled again, bashfully. “I wanted like hell fer you ta do that again. I was still so pissed at ya, but I wanted ya so bad I could taste it.” He chuckled. “But I wasn’t gonna let on that I knew…I wasn’t gonna tell ya that I was awake.” Shera nearly told him then, about what she did to the child she carried after he had brutalized her. But, she could not—whether they reconciled or not, he would be destroyed by the knowledge of the abortion of his second child. She locked it away in her heart for all time, for good or ill, and touched his hand. “Cid…I wanted to make love to you, too. I couldn’t bring myself to, no matter how much I wanted it. That one time I touched you…it had been five years, Cid. It was too long for me. I couldn’t wait anymore.” Cid nodded in agreement. He stood, and pulled Shera to her feet. “Well, makin’ love to ya every five years—that’s just too damn long fer me, too. Will ya stay with me tonight?” Shera nodded mutely. He drew her body to his, and for the first time in six years, they both felt the first stirrings of what they once had. O-O-O-O-O Shera couldn’t sleep. Her mind was full of everything that happened on that pure, golden dawn. Cid had apologized to her for everything he had done over the past ten years, but a pall hung over his head. Despite his insistence that he was ready to face Sephiroth, he was afraid…deeply, grimly afraid. He clung to her when they made love, and the act itself had a sense of finality, and of timorousness. Cid didn’t want to snap the frail bond they had forged that morning, so he was shy (something that endeared him to Shera more than boldness would have). It was tender, like it once had been, and she felt the spiraling sweetness take her as it once had, so many years ago. When it did, she let it happen, and murmured her confirmation to this man—this man whom she, come what may, still loved. She looked up at Cid. With something akin to horror, she saw the knowledge of his own impending death in his eyes. She slid her arms around his shoulders, and drew him close. O-O-O-O-O Meteo, that bloated, crimson catastrophe, rose in the sky. The night was moonless, and should have been pitch-dark with the stars stitching intricate tattoos over the skin of the sky, but Meteo cast a pinkish glow over everything. Cid glared at it over Shera’s shoulder. It was growing at an alarming rate, and would be here in less than a week…if he and his friends couldn’t stop Sephiroth. Never happen. Sephiroth was theirs, now. His lip curled, and he bared his teeth at Meteo. O-O-O-O-O Inimitable. The following morning was peerless. It was also unwelcome. Cid stoically dressed and prepared himself for the trek back to the Northern Cave. When he was done, he stood in the foyer, and inhaled the scents of this, his little house. Something tugged at the hem of his flight jacket, and a cup of tea materialized in his hand. He drank it in silence. When it was gone, he handed the cup back to Shera, and looped his arms around her slight form. He dropped his head onto her shoulder, and kissed the nape of her neck. He raised his head, and brushed his lips against hers. He disengaged himself, grabbed his pike, and walked out the door. Shera watched him go. He went to Black and stroked his bill. Black cooed sleepily and bent low so Cid could mount the saddle. He wheeled the bird toward the North, but something bade him stop: the little voice in his head—the voice that had kept him out of trouble, the voice that had been silent since it had nearly talked him into blowing his own brains out—spoke. 'Cid. Cid, turn around.' Shera stood in the doorway, silent and unmoving as a statue. When he turned, she smiled, even as she choked on tears unshed. She nodded, and blew Cid a kiss. He put one gloved hand out, and pantomimed catching it. He put his hand against his heart, tapped it, and mouthed one word. “Eien.” Shera nodded again, and tapped her own heart. “Eien,” she whispered. He smiled, fleetingly, and then wheeled the chocobo around to begin the trek to the Northern Cave. Shera watched Cid ride away. In her heart, she was sure she would never see him again. She made her way to the house, and sat in the study. She was surrounded by old, old memories. Skyler’s visage was everywhere here—Shera decorated this room with old snapshots of their daughter. She came into this room often, even when Cid refused to even look at it. It made her feel close with her daughter, even if she was just a memory. She avoided the safe in the corner for one reason: the gun that killed Skyler came from that safe. But now…now she had to extract the thing that Cid wanted her to have. But what was it? She bent to the safe, and turned the combination lock. The safe swung open, and Shera peered in. There was a rolled sheet of paper, tied with a pink bow, a rather large stack of gil, and nothing else. Bemused, Shera took out the rolled sheet and was surprised to feel something slightly lumpy inside the packet. She slipped the ribbon off the roll, and unwrapped the paper. A small ring fell into Shera’s open hand. It once belonged to Cid’s mother. Stunned, she unrolled the paper all the way, and read what was written there. Shera, Remember when I said I was sorry I never married you? I want to fix that. Love you. P.S. The ribbon is for you too. I had an extra. Shera slipped the ring on her finger, and found it was a perfect fit. Shera wasn’t sure what to make of Cid’s ass-backwards proposal, but maybe if she wore the ring for a little bit; it would help her make her decision. She touched the small diamond, and wondered why she had to think about it at all. She had already made her decision. But…why did Cid need a ribbon?