Title: A Cat Has Nine Lives
Author: bnomiko
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Cid Highwind + Vincent Valentine, minor Tifa + Cloud, minor Elena + Tseng
Spoilers: post DoC
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII is the creation and property of Square Co., Ltd. / Square Enix. This is a not-for-profit fanwork and I do not own any of these characters.
Summary: After the events of Deepground Vincent's recovery is not going well. The Turks decide to help Cid break him out of the hospital in hopes of improving his odds. Sequel to "Stray Cat, Looking for a Good Home" but definitely can be read as a standalone. Post DoC, placed after the end of the credits and in lieu of the half dozen epilogues after (toss all the shit with Shelke in a shredder... only reference to any of it is that one week passes). OG FFVII universe based with DoC, a hint of Before Crisis, and a little influence from Advent Children as well.
Archived at: http://www.phenixsol.com/Miko/FF/

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A Cat Has Nine Lives

Ch. 1: For three he plays

* * *

Vincent's room currently resembled an apartment more than a hospital ward. Between generous funding from the World Regenesis Organization and the remaining Turks (in a gesture of solidarity to honor the last of the old guard, the man who'd proven to be the best of them all), every effort had been made to make the room as homey as possible, as everyone who knew Vincent knew he didn't react well to doctors or hospitals or anything remotely resembling a laboratory. While nothing could be done about the necessary medical equipment, the bed had been made up to look as close to a normal bed as possible, and a second one had been added so Cid could sleep next to his boyfriend. Heavy blackout drapes hung over the window to keep the room in a constant state of near darkness, since the sharpshooter's eyes were so sensitive to light. There was a sofa too, and a narrow coffee table that the pilot had taken over as a workspace, along with photos on the wall and get well cards and gifts lining a shelf. Cid even had a rolling cart set up with an electric kettle and a small selection of tea so he could at least indulge in one of his favorite habits while taking up the long wait. He never thought he could've quit smoking cold turkey, but it wasn't like he had a choice at the moment.

Currently Cid was fighting back a yawn while Vincent lay curled up with his head on the blond's lap, with various tubes and wires leading to an IV drip, oxygen feed, and a mobile monitoring unit that silently transmitted his vitals to the nursing station. The raven-haired man really was supposed to stay in bed, but no one was going to press the issue as long as he was resting quietly. While he appeared to be recovering well enough (even with his advanced regeneration working more slowly than before), something internally was wrong, leaving him suffering from unexplained seizures, migraines, shortness of breath, and persistently low body temperature, even for him. The doctors were working their way through different drugs and were now even looking into herbal remedies and homeopathic treatments but so far nothing provided satisfactory results... except Cid's presence. Close contact with the engineer seemed to help even out the worst of the symptoms, but it still wasn't enough to improve Vincent's outlook, nor was it realistic to expect them to glue themselves to one another around the clock for the rest of their lives, even if they were lovers.

The only thing the doctors knew how to do successfully was to help Vincent sleep when he was in pain. Unfortunately that meant he slept through the majority of the day and night.

The way Cid figured it, wasn't it obvious? You couldn't just shove tainted mako, Jenova cells, the essence of a handful of monsters, plus a Protomateria that controlled a fucking semi-WEAPON into a dying man, lock him in a coffin for thirty years, and expect him to run "normal." Never mind that Vincent had been under a tremendous amount of stress the last several weeks, having played a pivotal role in taking out Deepground before facing Omega head on and then plummeting out of the sky, going missing for an entire week before his shattered body was recovered all the way over on the western continent, halfway to Rocket Town. He'd been in such a bad state: burned and bloodied all over, a quarter of his bones broken, his clothing nothing more than scorched tatters, that the first doctor arriving on scene had immediately declared him dead. She hadn't exactly been wrong, as no normal human could've survived such damage, and Vincent simply didn't have anything that passed for a normal pulse. How was the woman supposed to know that the weak, flickering glow in Vincent's chest was the closest thing to a heartbeat that he had?

It was Vincent's extremely poor prognosis that got Cid to agree to have the WRO admit him to their cutting edge hospital near Junon for treatment, and that was where they'd been since. Vincent spent the first six weeks there in a coma, and was now closing in on an additional six weeks in critical care.

The nurses had long since quit trying to convince Cid to go out for a walk or take a break; the furthest he'd gone in two months without Vincent was the adjoining bathroom. Still running things in Rocket Town and Highwind Aerospace and Aviation, Inc. even if it all had to be done remotely through Shera. And being ever the optimist, he spent whatever free time he had redesigning Vincent's gauntlet, as the previous one he'd crafted had been irreparably damaged in the fight against Omega and he was certain he could improve on the design to give the ex-Turk's fragile arm more protection and mobility. It seemed a necessity, given that Vincent had broken that forearm in three places and suffered smaller fractures in his left hand and fingers as well, and unlike the rest of his body, the physical damage there was taking its sweet time mending. A padded brace and glove provided some protection for the time being, the doctors having given up on using a cast after Vincent broke two of them during seizures, further injuring himself.

A steady stream of friends brought clothing, work materials, and occasional bags of snacks and junk food, along with news. While Vincent's name had been deliberately kept out of reports to protect his privacy, the whole world now knew that a former Turk and member of AVALANCHE had single handedly shut down a planetary WEAPON. If nothing else it shone a positive light on the Turks, and what had once been a group relegated to fading into obscurity with the current generation suddenly had renewed interest. Tseng almost didn't know how to respond when he was first asked if they were taking applications for new recruits.

Speaking of Turks, Cid's eyes flicked upward when he heard the muffled tap of shoes of someone trying to slip in undetected. The doctors and nurses always knocked lightly on the doorframe before entering, and most of their friends would whisper his name to get his attention, which only left one possibility...

"Damn sneaky Turk asshole," Cid grumbled.

"If I was sneakin' you wouldn't have heard a thing, yo," Reno answered from where he was now leaning against the wall by the door. "This was me being courteous."

"By jus' wanderin' in whenever ya feel like? Want me ta break yer nose again?" Cid commented coolly. He'd managed to do just that when Reno had startled him awake shortly after Vincent had been admitted. The redhead was never going to admit that Cid had gotten the jump on him.

Reno reached up to prod the edge of the bandage across his nose, then shrugged. "How's Sleeping Beauty?" he asked with a smirk.

The pilot made a show of slowly curling his fingers into a fist. But before he could voice his threat, two more figures slipped into the room, the smaller one immediately kicking Reno in the ankle.

"Show some respect," Elena snapped, as Rude slid by to stand on the other side of Reno as the redhead shook out his leg a moment.

Reno stuck out his tongue. Yes he outranked Elena but she was just going to run and tattle to Tseng if he did anything in return. "Excuuuuse me, Mom."

Rude raised his eyebrow at his partner while Elena simply sighed, turning her back on her more caustic teammate. "How is Valentine doing, Captain Highwind?" she asked politely, pulling up a rolling stool and sitting down on the other side of the coffee table.

Cid eyed her momentarily, but she'd been nothing but nice since Vincent had been admitted. "Same ol'. Doctors still don't know shit. Everyone says they mean well, but I'm tired of them experimentin' ta see what'll work on him. One fuckin' quack even had tha gall ta suggest electroshock therapy, as if you could reset him like a malfunctionin' piece of equipment by lightin' him up! I told him he could shove his electrodes up his ass and went ta deck him but Cloud 'n Tifa grabbed me b'fore I could."

"If that guy's still around, I got somethin' even better, yo," Reno volunteered with a snicker, tapping his fingers on his jacket over where he had his electro-rod stashed.

Cid huffed. "Might jus' hafta take ya up on that." He was reluctant to agree with Reno on anything, but it was nice to fantasize about giving that doctor a taste of his own medicine. But... as much as he hated to admit it, Tifa was right; he couldn't afford to be arrested or have anything else happen that would keep him and his boyfriend apart. Frowning slightly at the thought, Cid automatically began stroking Vincent's braided hair, then he looked back over at the three Turks and said, "Guess tha boss man mus' be around too."

"Tseng is here, yes."

"I meant one stage above." Cid pointed skyward to illustrate. "'Cause ya ain't leavin' the big boss by his lonesome just fer a visit."

Elena simply smiled in lieu of an answer. Rufus Shinra had matters to discuss with Reeve Tuesti so that gave the four of them an opening to come with, but Cid didn't need to know the details. And the engineer didn't press, knowing better than to try. Whatever it was that Rufus was doing there had nothing to do with him anyhow.

"Actually Tseng would like to have a word with you, if that's all right," said the petite blonde.

"Sure, why not? I haven't kicked y'all out yet."

Reno rolled his eyes just as the aforementioned Turk leader entered the room. Somewhat chastised the redhead straightened up, as Elena vacated her seat for Tseng.

"I have a proposition for you, Highwind," Tseng immediately began, both hands relaxed and in his lap as if to prove he was unarmed.

Just as he had with Elena, Cid squinted at the man, but really none of the Turks had been an issue for some time now, so he was more inclined to hear him out. "Go on. I'm listenin'."

"Valentine hasn't been improving. And I don't know that he will, under these conditions," Tseng observed.

"And that matters ta ya why? He's told ya several times b'fore, he ain't a Turk no more."

"He may not consider himself one of us any longer, but we take care of our own, regardless, just as he has done for us in the past."

Cid sighed. Damn Turks made themselves sound like a cult, all hail Shinra and all that. He was glad that Vincent hadn't rejoined them, especially in light of the fact that he had only initially sold his soul to Shinra to investigate the circumstances behind his father's death. "All right, and...?"

"This might be the WRO's best hospital, but the medical staff here have never dealt with someone like him - they've been treating him like they would a SOLDIER. But as you are undoubtedly aware, he's above and beyond that, a unique existence. But no reputable doctor would allow a patient in his condition to be discharged from their care when there's not another facility to send him to, even if they don't understand what's wrong with him." Tseng leaned forward a bit more, his clasped hands dropping between his thighs as the timbre of his voice lowered as well. "We can offer you our aid in breaking him out of here."

"Wha? What good's that gonna do?"

"I believe... his best chance is at the abandoned church in the Sector 5 slums."

"And what? It's not like he has th' Stigma." Dark blond brows knit together. "Or ya want me ta pray to Aerith 'n hope she hears it and takes pity on him??"

"If there's a plea she would surely heed, it would be one from her old comrades."

Cid shook his head, though it was hard to dismiss Tseng's logic. He'd seen firsthand what Aerith had done for Cloud, but Vincent wasn't Cloud, even if he'd done just as much to protect the planet as their spiky-haired friend had... Though, Aerith was the first one to find out about him and Vincent; unlike some of the others who'd joked about it at the start, she'd always been supportive. Surely she'd still feel that way, wouldn't she?

"What if it doesn't work? Miracles sound great, but ya can't count on 'em. Hell, how do we even know Vincent can make it that far without all this... this shit," Cid asked, lifting some of the wires attached to the sharpshooter's body.

"Yes there's a degree of risk, but maybe a miracle can do what science cannot. And Valentine has proven to be incredibly resilient and the flight should take less than an hour. More likely, he'll be in some discomfort, but..." and Tseng paused, motioning to Reno.

"I filched some sleepy time drugs for ya," Reno said, pulling a pair of syringes out of an inner pocket in his jacket and handing them to Cid, who couldn't help but scowl at them. He hated that Vincent had to be drugged in order to reduce his suffering, but it was better than the alternative. "It's the exact stuff he's already on, don't worry, yo. I triple checked," the redhead reassured him, misreading the look on the pilot's face.

"It's not the best solution," Tseng admitted, "but it'll help minimize any medical distress on the way."

"Fuckin' hell," Cid grumbled, rubbing at his face. He couldn't believe he was about to agree to this wacky plan, but at this point, what else could they do? Wait for some other doctor to come up with an even worse idea?

"If you are concerned that this will cause you trouble, we are willing to take responsibility for your 'kidnapping.'"

"Nah, that's not how I operate 'n ya know it. I don't need no one makin' excuses fer me - I jus' want Vince ta get better."

"We already have a helicopter ready and waiting," Elena volunteered, hoping the extra information would tip Cid over the edge. "Tseng and I will accompany you. Reno and Rude will remain here and... provide distraction."

"And what, I jus' march out of here with Vincent while they set fire to tha place?" Cid asked, before he decided he'd rather not know. "Never mind... don't tell me. It's better that way."

Reno shrugged, smirking.

Seeing that Cid was just staring at his sleeping lover instead of arguing back, Tseng told Reno, "Go," and as the redhead slipped out the door he tilted his head towards Rude and said, "Leave the IV port but disconnect the rest once Reno gets going."

"Captain Highwind, is there anything you need to take with you?" Elena queried, patting herself down for her gun out of habit as Rude began cataloging the amount of medical sensors and such that he had to deal with.

"Me? Nah." Cid looked over the table at the work he'd left undone, but all that could wait. So could the drafts of Vincent's gauntlet. He'd brought one of his spears with him, but he couldn't see why he'd need it with two Turks at his side, and it wasn't like he was going to have a hand free to wield it anyhow. Either this plan worked or it didn't. He wasn't a gambling man by any means, but he believed in Vincent, and his partner wasn't going down without a fight. Maybe a bit of divine intervention was exactly what they needed to give him a fighting chance. "Guess some blankets for Vinnie, but that's 'bout it," he added, pocketing the syringes from earlier.

Rude nodded. He had already determined that most of the wires could be quickly detached without any difficulty, with just the ones around the hair line that might slow things down; extra oxygen was thankfully provided via nasal cannula instead of a breathing tube, which would've been tougher to deal with. "The helicopter is already stocked with blankets and basic medical supplies. But I'd suggest you wrap him up warmly once I'm finished," he answered, before canting his head at the sound of yelling somewhere outside.

"We're going to move quickly; will that be a problem?" Tseng asked urgently, seeing that Rude was ready to proceed on his signal.

"Vince probably weighs less than tha Lil' Missy; I could carry him all day," Cid said with a dry chuckle as he tilted his head towards Elena. "And I sure as hell ain't gonna let anyone else do it."

Rude was indeed efficient at disconnecting Vincent from his medical monitors, and as the ruckus outside grew in volume Cid quickly bundled up his boyfriend and lifted him off the sofa. Flanked by Elena and Tseng, Cid fell in behind Rude as the bald man quickly led them through the strangely half-empty critical care ward before peeling off to join his partner, and then Tseng took lead while Elena covered the rear.

Down one long hallway, then a turn and another, and then they were hustling up two flights of stairs that opened up onto the roof, where as promised, their ride was already warmed up and waiting.

"Isn't this Shinra's private chopper?" Cid marveled, looking at the sleek, charcoal colored craft.

"Who do you think left it running for us?" Elena said with a smirk as she pulled the door open for him. She followed once he and Vincent were safely inside, then joined Tseng in the cockpit. "Strap in, Captain," she added as they began taking off, not wanting to chance any pursuers. "If you want extra blankets or water or anything, they're in the duffel on the side."

Cid grunted, struggling to secure himself while balancing the ex-Turk's weight on his lap. At least the seats were unusually cushy, probably to meet the demands of its VIP owner. "Shit's sure nice in 'ere," he commented, digging through the large bag and pulling out an extra blanket for Vincent.

"I'm surprised you haven't engineered a luxury airship yet," Elena said. "Bet there's a market for it."

"Mebbe. Not really my thing. Gimme functional any day; I got better things ta do than ferry around rich snobs." But even as he said that, his always-active engineering mind couldn't help but conjure an upgraded two-seater, with reclining plush seats and tinted glass and personalized temperature controls. Something that prioritized the experience over efficiency and aerodynamics. Because even though Vincent didn't mind flying, he didn't have the same love for it as Cid did; maybe he'd enjoy it more if the blond catered to his comfort. Wasn't that the real reason behind redesigning the sharpshooter's gauntlet? Even the old one that had been forced on him had been functional at the most basic level, but Cid wanted better for Vincent, more than just surviving or getting by.

He looked back down at the bundled form still asleep against his shoulder, all black hair and pale, half-translucent skin. Once Vincent was better he'd love to surprise him with a new plane, one that was black as shadows at midnight or striking red, like a candied apple. And the new gauntlet of course. Would it be too forward to engrave or inlay a band around the fourth finger? Cid had already given him his dog tags (though they'd gotten wrecked with the whole Omega thing; Shera had sent replacements, which Cid was temporarily holding on to) but Vincent was a traditional kind of guy, so maybe he'd like the added symbolism of a ring. But since he was missing two-thirds of his ring finger he'd never be able to wear a band on his actual hand, so adding it to his gauntlet would be the next best thing.

As Cid continued to fantasize about his future plans, Vincent suddenly took in a shuddering breath, his eyes snapping open before squeezing shut just as quickly as he pressed his face into Cid's shoulder with a groan. He'd been sensitive to light ever since his release from the coffin, but his pupils had become stuck in full dilation after the doctors dunked him in mako one too many times for treatment, so it was far worse than before. But Cid figured out what was happening and acted quickly, pulling the blanket over the ex-Turk's head to filter out enough light to make things tolerable.

"Sorry, Sweetheart," the blond murmured.

Vincent made a soft, questioning noise, suddenly aware that everything around them was vibrating rhythmically, which meant he wasn't in his hospital room. His fingers clenched; his head was beginning to throb again already, pulses of pain shooting from temple to temple, right behind the eyes. If it wasn't for Cid's presence he would've panicked, thinking he was about to be taken away by Hojo for experimentation again or equally something horrible.

"We're headin' ta Midgar. Gonna go see Aerith," Cid informed Vincent, stroking over the cloth covering his head. "Mebbe she can do what tha doctors can't."

Vincent gave a tiny nod. Aerith was safe. He didn't know if she could help, but he at least trusted that she wouldn't do anything to hurt him either.

It suddenly occurred to the raven-haired man that he was on Cid's lap, which meant Cid wasn't the pilot - and they were in a helicopter, which Cid didn't own. So who was flying? Vincent tried to take a quick peek from under his makeshift hood, but hissed in pain as soon as light hit his eyes.

"Is everything all right?" Elena asked, peering over her shoulder.

"Yeah. Light's hard on 'im, is all," Cid grunted. "Of all the days it had ta be sunny..."

"Sorry about that; it doesn't help that the sun's in front of us. Hang in there, Valentine."

Vincent took in a shaky breath. The Turks didn't give him the same warm / fuzzy feelings that Aerith did, but if his lover was okay with them as escorts, Vincent saw no need to question it.

He would've been content to simply sit in silence on Cid's lap, but as the minutes ticked by, his head hurt worse and worse, like someone was using the inside of it as a shooting range and his brain was the target. His lungs started to labor under the stress.

"Doin' okay?" Cid asked. "Yer shakin'."

Wasn't that the helicopter? Vincent couldn't really tell. Either way, he couldn't quite suppress a pained groan from escaping.

Cid's arms automatically tightened around his precious load. "Tseng, ETA?"

The dark-haired Turk checked the readings. "About twenty more minutes, give or take."

"Shit." Cid really didn't want to knock Vincent out, but he was starting to break out in a cold sweat and he kept writhing, as if he wanted to slide out of his skin to escape discomfort. The blond pulled out one of the syringes then fumbled for the IV port, glad to have something easier to aim for than a blood vessel on a damp, trembling arm. Medication delivered, all he could do was sit back and wait until Vincent's breathing gradually began to ease and his muscles slackened. "Sorry, Vin." Great, now he was the one helplessly apologizing for everything like Vincent used to, and how much had it taken to break him of that habit?

"Is he out?" Elena asked.

Cid grunted in the affirmative. "Fuck, I hate this," he tacked on, mindlessly capping and returning the spent syringe to his pocket as he wondered why his jacket was vibrating too? Oh wait, it wasn't. The captain fished out his phone and stared at it. Half a dozen missed calls and just as many texts, mostly from Reeve and mostly to the effect of, "Gods, where on GAIA are you? Where's Vincent? What's going on?" Cid snorted softly. If Vincent was with him then Reeve ought to know that at the very least, the ex-Turk was being looked after. Really, Reeve was going to have an aneurysm within three years if he didn't calm down over every little thing he couldn't control.

"If all works out, you won't need to dose him again," Elena said, trying for a bit of levity as Cid texted, "FCKIN CALM YR TITS WERE FINE" at Reeve.

"If it all works out, I'm gonna chain the bastard ta my ankle so he can't wander off on his own again. Look 't what happens when he's left ta his own devices," Cid muttered, shoving his phone back in his pocket. Actually, it was all Reeve's fault, wasn't it, sending Vincent in to deal with what was originally thought to be a small splinter faction of SOLDIERs from the old Shinra regime? Or really, fucking Shinra (not the current one playing dumb at the hospital, but his thank-gods-he's-dead old man) and his love of power and profit at all costs. But most of all, fuck Hojo a thousand times over - no matter how oneu spun it, he was the source of all of Vincent's misery. As an engineer Cid had always been a big believer in science and its potential, but screw anyone who thought it was okay to experiment on sentient beings.

"A literal ball and chain, huh," Elena mused.

"Yeah, somethin' like that."

"We're landing soon," Tseng interrupted. "I'm aiming to place us as close as possible, but you'll still need to carry him the rest of the way, Highwind."

"Yep, I'm ready fer it."

* * *

It was strange walking into a building that was so badly damaged that only about two-thirds of it remained standing, yet had occupants wandering in and out like there was nothing abnormal about a wrecked church with a big pool of water in the center, ringed by yellow and white flowers and a few remaining pews. Whether it was miracles, hope, salvation, or serenity, this quiet spot was the closest thing to heaven on their ravaged world. Cid gazed at the sunlight streaming in, at the tranquil, still surface of the clear water, then turned back slightly and looked at Tseng, who'd refused to take a single step into what he called hallowed ground. He'd offered to keep guard from the entryway instead, though Cid knew it was far more likely that the dark-haired Turk felt undeserving of being in Aerith's presence, and, like Vincent of yore, would rather do penance than seek forgiveness.

Elena followed about halfway in, but came to a halt next to the last pew and motioned for Cid to go forward. Forward to do what, the pilot had no clue, but he obediently marched forth until he reached the edge of the pool, then knelt amongst the flowers, carefully arranging the sharpshooter across his lap as they sat in a sea of greenery. He took in a deep breath, looking about for some sign that he was doing the right thing.

Seconds slowly ticked by. Vincent didn't stir and Cid didn't sense anything different other than the sweet smell of flowers thickening like honey in the air. Did he need to say something? Maybe Aerith didn't understand why they were there. Maybe she was testing his steadfastness and his faith - in her, in Vincent, in himself.

"Uh... hi, Aerith. It's been a while, right? Guess we shoulda visited more often, but ya know how it is. Life's not easy, but we're all doin' our best..." He clutched Vincent a little more tightly. "I came ta ask a favor. Vin... he's hurting. He and Chaos stopped Omega from preemptively wreckin' shit fer all of us, but Vince paid the price fer it - he fell outta the sky and went missin' fer a week. Doctors can't do nothin' about it other than knock him out. I dunno what else we can do fer him..."

There was a slight breeze, but no answer. Or was it just a mildly windy day and Cid hadn't noticed until now? Certainly there was no magical glow, no glittery fairy dust falling from the sky, or anything of that nature. Vincent remained still in his blankets. Cid sighed, a little disheartened.

"I'm sure this ain't yer specialty. Warding off Meteor and Sephiroth's more yer thing. But I don't got anywhere else ta be, so it's fine, take yer sweet time. We'll be here."

"I'd wager most who come here have nowhere else to turn," came a grave male voice from somewhere behind Cid's shoulder.

The blond turned, a little surprised as he hadn't heard anyone approach him. There was an older man standing to his right with short brown hair, a close cropped beard, and a scar cutting upwards on his left jaw. He wore a long coat over a plain black turtleneck and slacks and had his hands loosely clasped at belt level before him. He looked back at Cid with dark, serious eyes, and Cid couldn't help but think of Tseng earlier, sitting in the hospital room with his hands in plain sight, as if to say, "I'm unarmed."

"Is that right?" Cid couldn't help but twist a little further to see Elena still waiting by the pew. She was watching intently but didn't seem alarmed that the man had come so close to them; if she wasn't suspicious of his intent, then Cid would keep his cool, too. "So why are you here? Ya look to be in good health, if ya don't mind my sayin'."

The man's gaze briefly drifted down to the bundled form on Cid's lap though there wasn't much to see, just the lower half of a pale face and a few tufts of black hair. "I came to pray for the health and happiness of my old partner, whom I haven't seen in a few decades. I've heard he's taken ill." His words were accompanied by a stronger gust of wind, making Cid frown, as he worried Vincent would catch a chill.

"I dun think it quite works that way, but doesn't hurt either I suppose," Cid answered. He turned over the man's words in his head again - both the stranger's posture and phrasing suddenly made him wonder if the guy was a former Turk, but maybe he was just overthinking it after having spent the last couple of hours with Shinra's elite security force.

"Perhaps not, but it's the best I can do right now."

"Yeah? Mebbe goin' 'n spend some time with him would be a better use of yer efforts."

The mystery man grunted. "I do not think he will see me. It's been a very long time, after all. And... I wasn't a very good partner to him."

"Drownin' yerself in yer regrets won't do ya any good. It don't change things or make 'em better." Cid looked down at Vincent, thinking about all the years the raven-haired man suffered for his purported sins. "Ya wanna be forgiven? Stand up and do somethin' about it. Go see him b'fore it's too late," he said with certainty as the wind whipped up the water enough to disturb the mirror-like stillness of the surface.

The man sighed, bowing his head. "I suppose you're right. I should..."

There was a sudden loud cracking sound and the wooden floorboards beneath Cid and Vincent abruptly gave way, dropping the pair into the pool below with a loud splash.

* * *

* * *

Author's Notes:

- Congrats Rude, you now have medical training. I needed someone to do the job.

- Thanks to Nenya85 for beta work. Reviews are appreciated!

November 15, 2024