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/
* * *
A Cat Has Nine Lives
Ch. 2: For three he strays
* * *
The moment they fell into the cold water, Cid felt something almost like an electric shock jolt through him. It made his whole body go numb for a moment; he struggled to regain control of it as fast as he could, so he could keep his hold on Vincent. He had to get his lover to the surface! Cid didn't know if Vincent could drown but he certainly wasn't willing to put it to the test.
Pulling Vincent's body flush against his own, Cid kicked his feet furiously and flailed with his other arm until he broke the surface with a gasp. He frowned as he blinked water out of his eyes; for a moment he thought he saw a blurry brown ponytail and grass green eyes breeze by. Another blink, and the vision was gone.
"Highwind!" Elena sprinted to join the mystery man in fishing the two out of the water. The pool should've been extremely shallow at the edge, so she was surprised to see that they'd somehow disappeared into a pocket deep enough to fully submerge two grown men.
Cid quickly splashed to the edge of the opening, hauling Vincent's limp body with him, trying to lift him up towards the stranger. "I'm fine; get him out!"
The older man leaned down and pulled the sharpshooter out of the water as Elena caught up to them. With a glance the two seemed to come to an agreement, spreading out the wet blanket like a gurney so they could quickly carry Vincent several meters away from the sinkhole, as no one knew how stable the wood planks were in the immediate area after what just happened. Once Vincent was back down on the floor Elena quickly crawled to his side to examine him; he didn't appear to be harmed, just soaked, but that made it impossible to get a read on his body temperature. He was only wearing two thin hospital gowns so keeping him warm was a priority.
The stranger returned to the water to offer Cid a hand, but the engineer was already hauling himself out. He gave himself the briefest of checks to ensure nothing would impede him from taking care of his boyfriend, then barked at Elena, "Can ya get back to tha chopper and grab some dry blankets fer 'im?"
Elena's eyes remained on Vincent as she pointed a hand at the doorway. "Tseng's already gone to get them."
Cid nodded, relieved. He'd momentarily forgotten Tseng was there since the Turks leader had refused to come in. "How's he look?" Cid asked, joining Elena in kneeling by Vincent's side.
"No worse for wear, just wet. Although I can't tell if his breathing is slow or if this is normal for him?" the petite blonde reported, now kind of regretting that they hadn't brought Rude along. None of them were doctors by any means, but he'd had a little more medical training than the rest of them.
Cid peeled back just enough clothing to look for the slow, faint rise and fall of Vincent's chest, for the barely visible, softly pulsing glow of the Protomateria slightly to the left of the caldera where several branches of the crazy, puckered roadmap of scars converged. Although it no longer did anything with Chaos and Omega both returned to the planet, the orb was still aligned with Vincent's blood flow, so it was a good indicator of the stability of his circulatory system if nothing else.
Both breathing and pulse looked good, and the white skin wasn't any paler than before. Cid placed his hand on Vincent's cheek, turning his head slightly towards him, intending to check his pupillary response. As he wiped his hands off on his pants out of habit and began leaning in he heard a soft moan, then an equally soft gasp. "Vince?"
As Cid pulled back Vincent's eyes slid open just a millimeter, revealing the glimmer of ruby orbs as the ex-Turk jerked his head away from the direction of the sun as he warily evaluated if daylight was still too bright for him. Not feeling an immediate, punishing sting, he let his eyelids draw back a little bit, then a little more, until he was squinting dazedly at flowers and worn out stone and Cid's bright blue eyes staring back at him with awe. It was obviously sunny out, but for the first time in weeks, the light didn't hurt too badly.
"Vince?" Cid tried again, unsure of what was happening. Did... Aerith do this? Or did he just want to believe something had changed? At any moment Vincent could suddenly wince and his eyes could snap shut, and they'd be back to the square one.
"Cid..." Vincent croaked. "Where..." He lifted his right arm, seeming almost baffled by the water dripping off it.
The blond carefully caught his boyfriend's chin again and turned his face towards him. Pupils were back to normal, jet-black discs set in the center of matching blood red pools (though Cid was still getting used to the fact that Vincent's eyes were the same color now that Chaos' influence was gone). His skin was cool but not cold; he wasn't trembling. "'Member I said we were goin' ta see Aerith? Guess we got a closer look than anticipated, 'cuz we fell into the water."
Vincent's mouth made an O shape. He tried to remember, but his memory was blurry from the migraine earlier and the painkillers. Speaking of which... "My headache is gone," he observed.
"That's great! Think you can sit up?" Elena asked, reaching out and gently taking hold of Vincent's hand.
"Hey, don't rush 'im," Cid warned, itching to slap her hand away but restraining himself. But Vincent was already trying to comply, so the captain quickly slid his arm behind the sharpshooter's shoulders to provide support, and soon Vincent was sitting upright, leaning slightly against Cid's sturdy frame as he took in their surroundings.
When was the last time he'd been here? During the Geostigma crisis? The light glinting off the water caught Vincent's attention, but when he flicked his gaze towards it, he thought he saw an impossible reflection on the surface kindly smiling back at him. He sucked in a breath, unsure of what to say. It didn't matter because a second later the water rippled and the image was gone. "Aerith...?"
Cid's hand stroked through damp black hair. "Saw her too, did ya," he murmured.
"How did she...?" Vincent began asking, but he didn't finish the question. No one could explain how Aerith pulled off her miracles and he wasn't going to pretend he had the right to know, even if he'd acted as an agent for the planet. All that mattered was that even after all those years, she was still looking out for them so they could continue doing what they could to fix the damage done by the old Shinra regime.
He looked back down. He knew he should be cold in the wet cotton gowns, but he didn't feel it. His left arm was still in its padded brace, resting on his lap. He slowly lifted it, wincing, then tried flexing the gloved fingers one by one. That was still painful; apparently it was beyond even Aerith's blessings to fix the damage in that limb after all that had been done to it. The fractures were going to have to heal the old fashioned way, with time and rest.
"Arm's still busted, huh. How's everythin' else though?" Cid asked as Vincent carefully lowered the brace back to its prior position. The pilot's gaze wandered to the bruising on the other arm; he wondered if they should remove the IV, or if it was better to just leave it alone for the time being. Though... since Vincent had fallen into the water, didn't it need to come out? Or... Could he even get infections?
"I... don't know? Everything's still muddled in my head. I remember being cold and having terrible headaches, and now I'm not." He paused, swallowing. "How long has it been since Omega?"
"Two months and a bit. You've asked that a few times, but guess ya don't remember."
Crimson eyes blinked back at concerned, clear blue ones. That was a long time to keep someone tethered to his bedside, worrying. "I'm sorry, Cid."
Cid clicked his tongue. "No, you're not. Ya saved us all, Vince. Yer allowed to forget things when you're injured and recoverin'."
"We're just happy to see you lucid once again, Valentine," Elena piped in.
Vincent made a small sound of concern but didn't contest the point. Instead, he looked at the petite blonde sitting just past Cid.
"Elena, why are you here?" Vincent asked.
"Lending you and the good captain a helping hand, that's all," she said with a smile.
Vincent cocked a brow at her. With his hair half plastered against his head and no cowl, Elena was seeing more of his facial expressions than she'd ever had. Not that he emoted much, even then, but she spent so much time with Rude and Tseng that she was old hat at reading blank looks.
She huffed. "You've done the same for us, so don't start. No one owes anyone anything. That's how friends handle things, right?"
Vincent's eyes widened. Were they friends? He thought for sure she'd go back to the usual well of "once a Turk, always a Turk." "I... suppose. Though I can't say I'm well versed in such things..."
"Gods, Vin," Cid grumbled. He would've slapped him on the back if the man was in better shape. "Just say, 'Thank you,' and yer golden."
"Thank you, Elena."
Elena grinned, then that smile broadened further as she noticed a shadow fall across the entrance of the church. "Oh, Tseng's back," she announced brightly, darting off to retrieve the duffel he'd brought from the helicopter.
The dark-haired Turk was happy to hand off the bag to his subordinate, and even more pleased to see that Vincent was sitting up and conversing without difficulty. Elena gave a quick glance at the older man who now stood near Tseng's side, behind a stone column that blocked him from view of anyone inside the church. She opened her mouth to say something, then changed her mind with a shake of her head, heading back to rejoin Cid instead.
"You could have stayed and given your regards," Tseng admonished his mentor mildly.
"I thought I could. But in the end... I'm a coward. I still think it's better this way. He wouldn't want to see me," Veld answered in an equally low voice. He knew Vincent's hearing was exceptional, but the wind was carrying the sound away from where he and Cid sat; given that he hadn't turned his head in their direction, it was apparently enough to prevent him from listening in.
"We're both cowards, then," said Tseng, watching as Cid grabbed one spare blanket to use as a towel, drying Vincent's hair off as best he could. They were arguing a bit over whether or not Vincent should ditch the soaked gowns, but there wasn't anything else for him to wear.
Veld shrugged out of his coat. "Hand this to Elena. The sleeves are wet, but it's better than nothing."
It took a bit of waving, but Elena finally spotted Tseng motioning to her and came to fetch the coat. "Are you sure?" she asked automatically, though she'd accepted it and had already begun pivoting to walk off.
Veld leaned forward just enough to nod at her, and she hurried back to Cid and Vincent.
Tseng didn't say anything for a minute, then very quietly reported (without moving his lips), "I think Elena managed to convince Highwind that you left. Valentine... is more suspicious. He's looking for you."
"I would expect nothing less."
Tseng continued to watch as Cid stood up and moved away to begin wringing out his own drenched attire, while still trying to convince Vincent to take the loaned article of clothing. In the end, practicality won out. "Looks like Valentine is finally accepting your offer," Tseng said.
"I'm glad." The older man exhaled, relieved. "Both that he's taking the coat, and for the chance to see him again. And that the captain is a good man. He obviously cares for him. He'll be a far better partner to Vincent than I ever was."
Another minute passed in silence. Cid was waving Elena away so Vincent could finish drying off and get dressed without an audience. She responded by pulling out some gauze, tape, sterile wipes, and even a sharps container, gesturing at the IV port, then pivoting on her heel to leave.
Behind her back Cid shot a dirty look at Tseng, so the dark-haired Turk humored him by turning his head to the side, making it clear he had no intention of watching. Even with all that, Cid still felt the need to hold up the wet blanket like a changing room curtain, all while repeatedly asking the raven-haired man if he needed any help.
As Elena wandered out and joined her boss Tseng told Veld, "He'll be done getting dressed in no time at all. You need to go, Senior Director, if you don't want him to see you."
For a moment Veld had the urge to step out, to reveal his presence to his old partner, but then the moment passed and he slumped against the stonework, sighing. "I will contact you later, then," he promised before hurrying away.
* * *
As Vincent didn't have shoes, Cid ended up carrying him back to the helicopter despite his protests. Actually, the engineer was thrilled that his boyfriend felt well enough to protest... it was such a welcome improvement over his earlier shivering and pained groans. But that didn't mean Cid was willing to take any risks either; he intended to keep Vincent wrapped up and warm as possible. It'd be foolish to undo Aerith's hard work by not taking care of his lover the best he could.
Once aboard their ride Cid had been tempted to keep Vincent on his lap, but his own clothing was still quite damp and Vincent was in no condition to be fooling around (and they had a built-in audience), so he put the one remaining dry blanket on the seat for them both to sit on and wrapped one end around Vincent's exposed legs.
As they lifted off and headed back towards Junon, Cid quickly texted Reeve to say, "SEE U SOON. ON R WAY BACK" with an added thumbs up so the commissioner wouldn't continue worrying himself into an early grave, then took a deep breath, turned to the raven-haired man nestled beside him, and with a nervous grin asked, "Hey Vince, now that yer all better... whaddya think about gettin' married?"
Every part of Vincent's brain crashed and went offline simultaneously. He gawked at Cid, unable to utter a single word. At the same time a sudden high pitched, squeaky sound was coming from the cockpit. Startled, Cid jerked his head up to see Elena staring back at them, her eyes as big as an owl's and a huge grin on her face, as she rapidly slapped at Tseng's shoulder.
"Damn girl, calm down. This ain't a show..." Cid muttered.
"... Eeeeeeeeeeee!" she continued, like a broken dog whistle.
Even Tseng couldn't resist a quick glance back at that point, one eyebrow cocked. It was more expression than Cid had ever seen on his face.
The engineer scratched the back of his head for a moment, then decided to ignore their audience and just say what he needed to say. While he understood Vincent might be hesitant after what had happened the last time he'd been involved in a proposal, he wasn't going to risk losing the man ever again. Where his lover went, he'd follow. "I don't want ya goin' solo on missions anymore. I know yer capable, but that's not the point. Turks are supposed ta have a partner, right? One that sticks with them through thick 'n thin. So... let me be yer partner."
Vincent's fingers tightened on the collar of the borrowed coat. Though he hadn't told Cid nor confronted Elena about it, the moment she'd brought over the coat he'd recognized the scent on it, even with the thirty-something year gap. It made his head spin. "I'm no longer a Turk," he weakly protested as he wondered where his old partner had been and why he'd suddenly turned up now?
"Fuck's sake... way ta miss the point, Vin!"
The ex-Turk took in a breath, refocusing on the man currently at his side. Cid wouldn't abandon him even if he suddenly disappeared one day; he'd look for him, wouldn't he? Even Chaos had vacated, but Cid... Cid stayed. With no thought of his own future or his own well being...
Vincent tried again. "You already have too many responsibilities. Do you really want to add one more?" He was still feeling guilty over all the time he'd stole from Cid as he recuperated, and for making him worry. Cid had been smiling at him since he woke up soaking wet, but his scruff was out of control and the shadows under his eyes spoke of long, sleepless nights.
"You're the only responsibility I wanna have fer myself. Everythin' else? Jus' doin' what I gotta do to live on this crazy world. But since I got Shera and some good crew, we can all share th' load. You? You've been tryin' to get by all on yer lonesome ever since I met ya 'n I can't take it anymore..."
Vincent frowned, torn between accepting and refusing. He loved Cid, that wasn't the question. He just worried about how many problems he'd cause for Cid by being around, by being his husband, given that he only seemed to invite trouble...
"What are you so scared of?" Cid asked softly. "Or... is it me?"
"I just... I'm not..." Vincent shook his head, scared by his own difficulties in explaining things. He did want him; he desperately needed Cid to understand that! "It's not you, Chief. It's... I worry I'm not good for you, that I'll only make things hard for you..."
Elena's voice suddenly cut through the gloom. "Just say yes, Valentine! Or I'll shoot you!"
"We ain't goin' fer a shotgun weddin', Lil' Missy," said Cid with a nervous chuckle. But still, his stomach was decidedly starting to sink as he glanced at the man by his side, as Vincent worried his lower lip between his teeth. "You've always been good fer me. I'd like ta think I've been good fer you, too. Together... wouldn't ya say we've made each other better? I certainly needed improvin'; 'member how bad my temper was when we first met?" He waited for a nod, then continued, reasoning, "So if things get hard fer ya, then lemme help ya along, and mebbe it won't be so tough."
Vincent made one of those tiny, barely perceptible sounds of indecision that the captain thought was so cute, that the sharpshooter would deny that he could even make in the first place. Cid nosed past some of his hair to kiss him on the cheek.
"So... will you marry me?" Cid asked against his boyfriend's skin, his voice nearly a whisper.
Vincent reached out blindly with his right hand, haphazardly grabbing onto Cid's thigh, before turning towards him shyly, his lashes fluttering down to obscure his eyes, his lips mere millimeters from Cid's own. He thought he'd long since given up on ever having a partner for life, but Cid had clung on just as tenaciously. And wasn't that what Vincent loved most about him? That bold, bullheaded perseverance... the way he could look past logic and reason to chase after a horizon that only he could see... his refusal to let go of anything, for better or for worse? Very well, then. "If you're sure you'll have me, then... okay, Chief," he said, closing the small gap between them for a quick peck on the lips.
If they'd thought Elena was high pitched before, she hit a whole other octave with her yelp of excitement.
Cid released a loud, shuddering sigh of relief, one hand going to his chest as if to ensure his heart was still beating correctly. He thought he'd been scared during Meteorfall, facing Sephiroth... or while helplessly watching Chaos streaking through the sky after Omega. But this was a completely different type of fear, and frankly, facing down death was nothing in comparison. "Never been so sure of anythin' in my life, Sweetheart," he drawled affectionately. His fingers brushed by the forgotten dog tags; he quickly pulled them off and offered them back to his boyfri... no, his fiancé. "These will hafta do 'til I can get a ring added to yer new gauntlet."
"A... ring?"
"Of course! Only a proper weddin' ring will do, right? But fer now, if I may do the honors...?" The new tags jangled enticingly, catching the light.
"You'll invite us to the wedding, right," Elena interjected, making it sound like a demand instead of a question.
"I'm fine with that," Cid answered as he finished clasping the chain around Vincent's neck. The raven-haired man immediately shoved his face into the crook of the blond's neck, too overwhelmed to say another word. Cid grinned and obligingly rubbed his partner's back with slow strokes even as his eyes traveled further south. The blanket had slipped, leaving him with a pretty enticing glimpse of inner thigh. He'd rather be stroking those bare legs, but Vincent had to be feeling pretty overexposed by now. It wasn't like he wanted to walk around in nothing but a borrowed trench coat, or to be proposed to while riding a helicopter with the current generation of Turks. Cid swallowed, forcing himself to refocus. "It'll be a helluva party! Unless... ya rather elope, Vin?" he asked as he tried to subtly tuck the blanket back over Vincent's lap.
Vincent pulled back slightly and shook his head, though he didn't mind the notion. But everyone would be disappointed, wouldn't they, if he and Cid snuck off and only informed them after the fact. Their friends deserved better than that, considering everything they'd put up with so far.
That said, he hadn't a clue as to what went into planning a wedding. They had people whose jobs it was to handle that, right? Or was that what the bride did? But they didn't have a bride. Vincent's face scrunched up. The last one... hell, the only one he could remember attending, had been Verdot's, and all he'd had to do was show up and not lose the ring.
"Aww, dun do that. It's too damn cute," Cid cooed as he reached up to rub at the wrinkle between Vincent's brows.
The sharpshooter frowned. He was equal parts annoyed and comforted when Cid treated him like a baby animal. "Do you know how to go about planning a wedding?"
"Isn't that what the bride does? Or the bride's family or something?"
"That's what I thought. Therein lies the problem," Vincent said flatly.
"Uhhhh... well, shit." Cid nervously cleared his throat. He certainly wasn't anyone's idea of a bride, and Vincent would carve out his brain through his nostrils if he even thought of suggesting that that was his role. "Uhhh, think Shera could do it?"
"Isn't Shera already handling everything in Rocket Town and with Highwind Aviation too?"
"Well fuck, how many other gals do we know? Ugh, we can't ask Tifa, she'd probably punch Cloud into orbit because he still hasn't... ya know..." and his voice dropped to a rough whisper, "made it official official."
Vincent nodded. A promise ring was only going to hold out so long. They all knew to avoid any talk about commitment whenever Tifa got that expectant glint in her eye. As it was, neither one wanted to be present for the moment when she learned that Cid and Vincent (of all people) were going to beat her to the altar.
"And Yuffie's a fuckin' brat and there's no way I'm owin' her a damn thing. So... that leaves..."
"Ahem," came a voice from the cockpit.
The captain glanced at Elena as she grinned back at them like a pleased cat. "What? Oh, I guess yer a girl too."
Even Vincent looked offended. "Cid, really?"
"Yeah, how rude can you be?" Elena snapped.
Cid simply shrugged, then slung his arm back around Vincent's shoulders.
"Ugh, you two are going to be so insufferable until you make it official," Elena faux-complained. In reality she was loving every second of it, two clueless idiots in love. "But as I am a generous lady I suppose I may be persuaded into lending you my aid..."
Tseng sighed. "Elena..."
"Let me do it!" she squealed.
"Well, I'm fine with that," said Vincent.
Hardly the voice of enthusiasm, but that meant Elena only had to get Cid on board, and Cid was going to agree with whatever Vincent wanted. She turned her attention toward the blond man, staring fixedly at him.
"Eh, why not?" Cid finally decided. He figured they'd just have a small and simple gathering - how much damage could Elena possibly do if she wanted to choose the flowers or the canapés?
Elena absolutely beamed at him, and Cid suddenly had a sinking feeling that they'd just let a bull loose in a china shop.
* * *
They returned to the hospital, despite Cid's eagerness to tell Reeve to shove off. The commissioner's whining only irritated the pilot, but Vincent was weak to it and wanted to assuage his concerns, so in spite of his dislike of doctors and hospital facilities, he agreed he'd stay the night and get properly medically discharged. It wasn't like they had anywhere else to be - a very excited Shera had promised to send someone immediately to pick them up, but that meant the next morning at earliest - and the hospital room was already set up with as many comforts of home as possible.
That didn't stop Cid from waking up in a panic first thing the next morning. Vincent was lying as still as a corpse next to him, and Cid suddenly wondered if the whole thing at the church was just a dream. But he'd forgotten that Vincent also slept like a rock when he was exhausted, or even when he felt safe, too, so when all his cursing caused the raven-haired man to flail awake in alarm, Cid felt terrible about it.
Vincent was discharged soon thereafter with a new brace on his still-healing left arm. Since no one had been prepared for such a sudden recovery and nothing but Cerberus had survived the battle and Vincent's subsequent crash landing, he had leave in some of Cid's clothes: cargo pants safety pinned at the waist and a flannel shirt, with Cid's favorite white scarf and leather jacket substituting for a cowl and cloak. The lack of footwear was resolved with a quick call down to podiatry for adjustable slides and bright blue grippy socks. So while Vincent looked something of a fashion victim, that hardly mattered to the people who'd come to see him off (and to congratulate them on the engagement, as news had spread like wildfire). And Shera practically tackled him in relief as soon as she arrived to personally escort him and the captain home.
The next several months were quiet. No world ending catastrophes, no psychotic alien-obsessed super humans and their larval spawn, no secret army of altered underground denizens. Vincent found the lull rather unsettling - maybe he was paranoid, but he was just so unused to it! - but it gave his arm time to heal and Cid plenty of time to work on perfecting the new gauntlet. It was impossible to get it down to the dimensions of a normal human arm, but with some very clever engineering and abundant use of adamant alloy, Cid managed to craft a piece that was only about fifteen percent larger than Vincent's right arm, and yet nearly twice as durable as the previous incarnation, with close to eighty, maybe even ninety percent of natural movement range. It was heavier, but that wasn't an issue for Vincent, so that was as good a tradeoff as any. And if Vincent slapped a leather glove over it, it really did look like a normal limb. Or if he had to be in the field, an attachable "exoskeleton" complete with razor sharp claw tips still gave him the option of an extra layer of protection.
Once his arm was usable, Vincent pitched in where he could, whether it was helping to move larger plane components or small things like tightening screws. He still wasn't all that interested in engineering or aeronautics but it gave him a way to contribute since Highwind Aviation always seemed to have multiple projects going, with a new cruiser class airship in the works as well as smaller transports and patrollers in various stages of completion, plus repair and maintenance work on existing aircraft.
Because he was so steady and meticulous with tiny components, Shera ended up teaching him to do assembly on electrical and computerized panels, which was something Cid had previously only trusted her and himself to work on. But with Vincent up to the task, that freed them to take care of other things while knowing the job was being done properly.
In the meantime, Elena kept in frequent contact with the pair, making good on her offer to handle their wedding planning for them. The only issue was Cid's original plan for a small, intimate ceremony didn't quite match up to Elena's ideal wedding (and it didn't help that Shera fueled the fire with her own ideas... so much for not involving her!), so the "intimate ceremony" steadily ballooned into a grander affair. The men reasoned it couldn't be helped; well over half of Rocket Town wanted to attend, but as Cid and Vincent had settled on going back to Aerith's church in Midgar for the actual ceremony, that meant space had to be made aboard the repaired Shera to accommodate all the Rocket Town invitees as well as the reception itself. And Tifa wanted to host a late engagement party cum rehearsal dinner, and how could they say no to her? Not that Cid even knew what a rehearsal dinner was... weren't they just going to march up to Reeve, say "I do," and go eat some cake? What was there to rehearse?
The other thing that Cid wasn't aware of until quite literally the day before the wedding was that there were a LOT more Turks than just the ones actively guarding Rufus Shinra. They drifted around the edge of the rehearsal like shadowy specters; he was almost certain he'd even seen a few hanging around in the vicinity of the parked Shera. When he got around to asking Vincent about it as they got ready for the ceremony in their room aboard the airship, the other man simply shrugged and referred to them as "ghosts" - Turks that had come off the books during the former President Shinra's reign, whether that meant they'd been forced into hiding or were presumed missing or dead.
"You didn't really think there were only the four active members, did you?" Vincent asked with a hint of a smile as he carefully worked at tying Cid's cravat so that it draped just right. "The ghosts are now officially considered retired but will still activate if the need arises; for example, they helped evacuate Midgar during Meteorfall."
Vincent clearly didn't count himself among their numbers even though he was a retired Turk who acted in the same capacity - he showed up when and where he was needed; he fed and received information from the same network. Cid knew better than to call him out on it; he had no idea how much conditioning went into Turks training, and he didn't like it either when people reminded him that he'd once been a Shinra dog too. "Guess I was ignorant, then. It was jus' creepy that they all suddenly crawled outta tha woodwork like roaches. Maybe that's what we get fer lettin' th' Lil' Missy plan this shit. Ya don't mind, do ya?"
"Perhaps it's simply a matter of curiosity, or maybe Elena got them stirred up. I have no personal attachment to them... but I don't mind, as long as it doesn't bother you, Chief."
"If it doesn't bother ya, it doesn't bother me none." Cid chuckled. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. The older gent that showed up that day at the church... I knew something 'bout him reminded me of Tseng."
"I'm sorry I didn't mention it sooner. Without a doubt that was my old partner, Verdot. It's just strange; he never attempted to contact me, only to show up on that day..." Vincent hung his head slightly, though with his hair tied back (courtesy of Shera) it didn't have the same effect of draping around his face and shoulders like usual. They'd only talked about it a couple weeks ago, when the raven-haired man went to pack up the cleaned coat so he could give it to Elena to return it for him. Mostly Vincent had wanted to reiterate that they'd strictly been work partners and friends; while it wasn't unheard of for Turks to end up in relationships with one another, he and Verdot had been like brothers more than anything, and furthermore, Verdot had married.
"Ya sure yer okay with it if he shows up? He seemed ta think ya wouldn't want to see 'im."
Vincent nodded. "I've had plenty of time to think about it. I don't know why he didn't come and find me, but I'm sure he had his circumstances as well. It's no coincidence that the number of ghosts far outnumber the active Turks."
Cid let it drop. If the ex-Turk wasn't holding a grudge when he had every right to, then neither would he.
"There. All finished," Vincent declared, taking a step back to look Cid over from head to toe and back. His smile lit up his face. "My, what a handsome fellow you are!"
The blond turned and angled his head slightly to look at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was flattering to be called handsome by his soon-to-be spouse, especially since Cid knew full well that there was nothing about him that would be considered traditionally good looking: he was stout, had a nose that he'd busted in a bar brawl as a hotheaded youth, and what muscles he had came from lugging greasy engine parts around and crouching with a wrench in tight spaces. But if Vincent considered him attractive, who cared what anyone else thought?
"Heh, I guess I do clean up pretty damn well," he agreed, rubbing his uncharacteristically smooth chin. His hair was roguishly tamed back too, with styling gel, not a pair of goggles. He was pretty sure Vincent and Shera had consulted with one another to come up with his attire: a light blue buttoned-up shirt with a cravat that was reminiscent of his signature white scarf, a cobalt blue suit similar in color to his favorite denim jacket, and polished dark brown boots. Basically he looked like an upgraded version of himself: still recognizable, but better.
Tearing his eyes away from his own reflection, Cid looked back at Vincent with gratitude and admiration. "Did Elena set you up with this? I always wonder'd what ya looked like as a Turk," the pilot mused as he skimmed his hands down the sides of the slim fitting, dark blue jacket that zipped over Vincent's torso, then gently tugged on the dog tags resting atop the tonal tie in lieu of a tie bar.
"She originally wanted to put me in the same suit the Turks currently wear, which are a bit baggier. But even if this was out of fashion, I knew you were curious about what I looked like back then, so..." Vincent vaguely gestured at himself, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I wasn't quite this skinny though."
Cid had long since come to terms with the fact that his lover's body was stuck the way it was, but he knew acceptance was still something of a journey for Vincent. "I know. And I wish a slab of ribs and a bowl of ice cream could fix things fer ya. But I promise ya, I love ya just the way you are," he assured Vincent as he pulled him in for a hug, enjoying the steel and strength in his boyfriend's frame; he was no frail flower despite his build. But even nicer was when the raven-haired man leaned into it, tucking his head down to nuzzle against Cid's ear and cheek.
"And I you, Chief," Vincent whispered as Cid stroked up and down along his spine. "Thank you."
There was suddenly a series of loud knocks at the door. Vincent startled; his left arm tightened around Cid while his right hand automatically twitched towards Outsider strapped to his thigh. Even on his way to the altar he couldn't stop himself from carrying. Cid understood that well enough to build gun racks into the headboards in both the house and on the airship, though Shera had drawn the line at guns in the kitchen too, when she went digging for a muffin pan and pulled out a short barreled shotgun.
"Yeah, what?" Cid yelled, his voice enough to disarm his lover from attack mode.
"You guys ready to get hitched?" Yuffie yelled back.
The blond ran his hand down his face. Why had they sent Yuffie of all people to fetch them? He voiced that very question, and Yuffie's reply spiked up an octave.
"Well I don't know! Elena's busy and Shera said something about your second cousins from North Corel or whatever and I guess Tifa's mad at Cloud right now..."
"Shiva's tits this is going to be a disaster," Cid mumbled, even as he grabbed their gloves. Brown leather for him, and black for Vincent.
"We could always jump out the window and elope," Vincent replied, deadpan.
"Tempting. But we won't survive all the shriekin' banshees huntin' us down later. Even Sephiroth ain't got nuthin' on angry, vengeful women."
Vincent quirked a tiny smile. "Cid, that's awful."
"Ya know it's true, it's why yer marryin' me," Cid volleyed back with a conspiratorial wink. He still didn't know what he'd done to deserve the amazing stroke of luck that had brought Vincent to his cabin room door that day aboard the Highwind, nor why Vincent had been receptive to him when he'd admitted himself, he'd never considered dating a man before. But he certainly wasn't going to question it nor turn it away. Even if it had been someone else's luck originally, it was too bad, finders keepers.
Vincent's head bobbed in a brief nod. If things had worked out differently, he never would've given Cid a chance. But the pilot had been understanding and patient when Vincent had been at his lowest: frightened, confused and depressed, feeling completely out of sorts after three decades in semi-stasis. Cid had been a listening ear, a warm hug, a steadfast support... a home and a future and all the impossible things that went with that. So what if his initial interest had been purely physical? At least Cid had been honest about that. And it wasn't like Vincent hadn't seen the captain as someone to tolerate while he desperately searched for his place in the world, if there was even anything left in himself that was human enough to salvage. If left to his own devices, he would've probably given up and returned to a meaningless existence in the coffin. But Cid had told him he was beautiful and strong, even after hearing his miserable story and seeing the evidence of it engraved on his body. And somewhere along the line, it no longer mattered to Vincent that Cid was male, that he was loud and abrasive and direct, that Vincent didn't desire a protector anyhow. It only mattered that Cid was Cid: brilliant, opinionated, brave and loyal, and being with him felt right.
Even a man like Vincent hadn't been immune to the charms of Cid's careful, considerate courting.
Yuffie began pounding on the door again. "Ciiiiid!"
"Yeah yeah we're comin'! Keep yer shorts on, Brat." He turned back to Vincent. "Ready ta do this?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
The engineer threw open the door just as Yuffie was preparing to kick at it. "Woah! You scared me!" she yelped, leaping back with her fists up, ready to throw punches.
"You deserve it! Don't kick my door ya little shit!"
She rolled her eyes. "Well if you'd come out when you're supposed..."
"You look very pretty, Yuffie," Vincent suddenly dropped into the middle of the argument, halting the sniping abruptly.
Yuffie's jaw dropped. Tifa had gone with her to buy a new outfit for the event; she'd ended up choosing a sleek, dark green satin dress with a riot of colorful flowers embroidered onto it, and a short slit over one thigh. Tifa had said it made Yuffie look more mature, but to think that Vincent noticed... "Why, thank you, Vinnie!" the ninja cooed, grabbing onto his arm.
"Vincent..." the raven-haired man corrected, though he couldn't fully fight down his smile. It was a stupid running joke between them. Yuffie acted like she had nickname privileges; he'd claim she did not.
"Don't touch my man!" Cid warned.
Yuffie didn't let go and instead stuck out her tongue. "He's not yours 'til you put a ring on it!"
"I already did," Cid snarked back. "Well, technically I mean..."
Vincent sighed. "Can we go already?"
* * *
Contrary to the captain's half-joking prediction, things seemed perfectly under control at the ceremony site. When they arrived at the church Tseng intercepted them at the entrance; Yuffie was allowed to slip in, but the Turks leader had had strict instructions to keep the grooms outside until Elena and Shera said it was time. The only thing he could offer them was a preemptive congratulations, and a pair of freshly cut flowers from the center of the church, which Elena had plucked for the grooms to tuck into their lapels.
Cid looked down at his blossom. "I guess it's too late ta run now," he said with a crooked smile.
Vincent smirked. "I've authorized Tseng to shoot out both your knees if you try it."
Both Turk and ex-Turk chuckled briefly at Vincent's dark humor, while Cid rolled his eyes. "Ya ain't gettin' rid of me that easily. B'sides, I'm the one whose been chasin' ya 'round since the day we met, not the other way around," he said smugly.
Vincent nodded. It was hard to argue that when Cid had insisted on even accompanying him to Lucrecia's cave the last time he went. The sharpshooter knew how Cid felt about her (he'd once offhandedly referred to her as the object of Vincent's warped sense of obligation, the rest of the time she'd simply been "that dumb broad"), but Cid had been surprisingly polite as he'd stepped forward and introduced himself as Vincent's fiancé.
Crimson eyes softened to a fond, gentle smolder as he remembered the way Cid had held his hand over his heart, pledging to stay by Vincent's side, that he'd always support him, so Lucrecia didn't need to worry about him being alone anymore. With a pleased little sound and even a tiny wiggle, Vincent leaned in a bit closer to the blond...
Tseng cleared his throat, startling the pair into freezing in place. Not that he cared if they wanted to start kissing early, but that was probably best saved for the altar. He just had to make sure they got there.
Vincent at least looked a bit guilty for a second, but then his brow furrowed in thought. "You will be attending the wedding as well, I assume."
The Turks' leader stared back, wondering what that meant. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"It doesn't count if ya jus' plan on standin' outside," Cid scolded, picking up on what Vincent was implying.
"If you want to be forgiven, you have to take the first step," Vincent said quietly.
Tseng did not back down to anyone or anything. But now his eyes cut away, unable to maintain contact with Vincent's glowing gaze. Still, Tseng could almost hear the accusation of cowardice in the ensuing silence. He nearly shot back with, "Don't you have a wedding to concern yourself with?" but before he could make the mistake of voicing it, Vincent's attention swung towards the doors, and even Cid held his breath in anticipation as Shera poked her head out.
"Ready to do this?" she asked, nervousness causing her smile to refuse to settle on her face. Like Elena, she'd been fully invested in making sure everything was as close to perfect as possible. After all Cid - and now Vincent - were like family to her; she wanted their special day to be one they'd never forget.
Vincent and Cid nodded back. It was time.
* * *
Author's Notes:
- Re: Veld/Verdot: Granted I know next to nothing about Before Crisis but it never made sense to me that Veld would've found Vincent and then left him down in the basement of the Shinra Manor; he should've dragged him out by force if he had to! But I liked the idea of Vincent having a partner just like his Turk contemporaries, so I included him. And as I'm going with the OG FFVII storyline first and foremost, that means no one found or woke Vincent in the thirty year span he was down there anyhow : p
On a name note, since Veld is named both Veld and Verdot in the FFVII universe I decided to use Verdot as his name back when he was a visible member of the Turks, and Veld after his "forced retirement." Hence Vincent referring to him as Verdot and Tseng calling him Veld.
- If Reeve double fists Xanax and Pepto-Bismol I wouldn't be surprised.
- The entire wedding proposal happened just so I could have Elena screaming at dog whistle levels. Her English dub voice in the Remake is certainly something...
- I marked this minor Tifa + Cloud but I kept it vague on purpose. Read it however you like. I couldn't help but notice in AC that she was sporting a ring on her right ring finger that looked like the cloudy wolf, so I interpreted it as I liked : )
- Yes Cid's still a bit of a misogynistic pig. I'm not taking out his smoking, his swearing, his tea drinking, so he can be an ass, too.
- Thanks to Nenya85 for beta work. Reviews are appreciated!
November 15, 2024