Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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 one 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 again to Nenya85 for beta work. Reviews are appreciated!

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.

Archived at: http://www.phenixsol.com/Miko/FF/

Chapter Text

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 stolen 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 to 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). 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 again to Nenya85 for beta work. Reviews are appreciated!

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.

Archived at: http://www.phenixsol.com/Miko/FF/

Chapter Text

There was no music; the pleased murmurs of the guests and the water gently lapping in the spring breeze were all that was needed as the pair marched in together. As a matter of habit, Vincent took in everything in the room with a single, subtle glance as he strode forth with evenly measured strides. Cid was more obvious in his excited assessment, his gaze swinging about as he looked around. There was a Cait Sith scuttling about, snapping photos; at least he was just doing the job instead of making needless commentary too. He spotted Veld in a back corner, half in the shadows; there was a woman next to him who looked too young to be his wife, so did that mean he'd had a daughter? Marlene looked up with bright eyes as he and Vincent made their way around the pool and fragrant flowers; Cid answered her enthusiastic wave with a wink and a nod of his head.

While neither he nor Vincent had had immediate family to invite, they certainly weren't lacking in those who wanted to wish them well. It was obvious with the wide assortment of guests assembled there: Turks and WRO members in full uniform, the entirety of AVALANCHE, Rocket Town denizens in their cleanest overalls, even some of the nurses that had helped treat Vincent - such a strange assortment, yet they all sat or stood side by side and smiled as the grooms joined Reeve on the low dais in the back of the room.

The commissioner had taken Cid's demand for a quick and simple wedding very literally. There were no invocations, no readings, no unity rituals... once both men stood before him, Reeve thanked friends, family and well wishers for coming to bear witness to Cid and Vincent's marriage as the pair joined hands, declared their intent to wed, and went straight for the vows. Even the vows were brief - they promised to love and to cherish, to support one another, and to always watch out for one another, as true partners in every sense, for as long as they lived.

They'd had to get creative as far as the ring exchange. As their bands were permanently attached - Vincent's was threaded onto his gauntlet and Cid's being a tattoo reading V. Valentine - they kept their gloves on until prompted to officially reveal their bands to Reeve and the assembled guests.

Everyone waited in eager anticipation of the pronouncement and kiss. Reeve had no intention of keeping them in suspense. "In the wise words of our friend Nanaki, now two sparks will burn as one flame. By the authority vested in me as commissioner of the WRO, I now pronou..." he began announcing, only to trail off in stunned silence as he openly began gawking at the center of the room.

"It's the flower girl!" Marlene called out in excitement. "She came too - look, Cloud!"

Tseng had been standing just inside the doors, positioned like a proper bodyguard (though he'd deny that Vincent's words had any weight in his decision), but he still took a half step back on reflex upon seeing the woman that he'd never be able to make amends to. At the same time Cloud pushed away from his spot by the wall and shuffled forward a few steps, ending up right next to Tifa and the kids as he blindly reached out in the pugilist's direction, their hands brushing as she'd reached towards him as well. The contact knocked some sense back into him; he remembered that Aerith couldn't be pursued. And it became obvious very quickly why she'd appeared at all.

"Thank you for including me, both of you," Aerith said as she approached the dais, after sparing just a split second to smile and nod at Elmyra as her adoptive mother's eyes teared up.

Rarely was Cid speechless, but this was one of those times. "Of... of course," he stammered when he finally found his voice again. Though they hadn't held the wedding there for that exact reason, the half-Cetra had been in their thoughts, as this was where she'd given Vincent's life back to him.

"Thank you," Vincent said quietly. Being a man of few words, it was amazing that he'd even managed that much.

She giggled softly and reached out for Cid's left hand, then carefully placed it over Vincent's gauntlet, so that their rings overlapped. "One more blessing, for a lifetime of happiness together," she intoned, as a soft glow momentarily enveloped their hands.

"Woah!" Cid exclaimed, suddenly feeling like he'd just stared into a flashbang. Strange... the glow hadn't been that bright, had it? But it was almost like he'd gone blind for a split second, and given the look on Vincent's face, he must've felt the same. "Are you all right?" he asked, before realizing the same thing that the guests had: Aerith had gone just as abruptly as she'd appeared.

Vincent sucked in a breath, then slowly nodded. For a moment he'd wondered if Cid had seen the same thing he had, but he thought he could almost make out a residual whisper - Aerith's voice - telling him it had been for his eyes only. It had only been for the briefest of moments, but was it possible that she'd given him a glimpse of their future? Cid, sitting on the porch swing in front of his weathered ranch house in Rocket Town, noticeably older but with eyes still as sparkling bright as a summer's day... and Vincent beside him, his hair showing a few streaks of gray, wrinkles softening the lines of the hand that was laced with Cid's.

Was this her way of reassuring him that now that Chaos was gone, so was the immortality that had been forced onto him? Vincent's eyes watered slightly. Maybe he was hoping for too much, but he couldn't imagine a better gift than to be able to simply live out the remainder of his life with his lover.

Cid squinted, realizing that Vincent was withholding something from him, but whatever it was, it was between him and their dear departed friend, so he left it alone. He looked over at Reeve instead. "Well, I guess we'll pardon that interruption... wanna finish this before somethin' else happens?" he whispered.

"I... how am I supposed to follow up after that?" Reeve nervously muttered, as Cid began frowning, as even Vincent turned and cocked his head at him. Aghast that he'd lost sight of what mattered, Reeve took in a couple of deep breaths, then straightened back up and said, "Now where were we?" Someone in the room made kissy noises, there were a few giggles, and Reeve nearly lost whatever was left of his nerve right there. "Ah... yes. Ahem. I pronounce you husband and husband! You may now kiss!" he quickly declared, getting out of the way.

Now, Cid had planned for this. He'd figured Vincent would be a bit timid with an audience, so it fell on him to take the lead. So when Vincent did exactly as predicted, shyly leaning down for a quick brush of the lips, Cid reached up and cupped Vincent's cheek with his left hand until the raven-haired man leaned into it out of habit. Then he slowly pressed the pad of his thumb over Vincent's lips until he parted them to inhale slightly, giving Cid the opening he'd been hoping for. He firmly sealed his mouth over Vincent's and began hungrily working their lips together like he was trying to steal the breath from his lungs, his body pressing insistently into Vincent's at the same time. Apparently it worked, as Vincent was stunned enough to be momentarily distracted from all the hooting and hollering around them.

When they finally broke apart for some much needed air, someone yelled, "Kiss him again!"

Cid was pretty sure that was Reno, so he flipped the bird in the redhead's general direction, then grabbed his new husband's hand and said, "Come on, let's beat it. I got something even better ta show ya."

Vincent blinked, his brain struggling to keep up with everything happening even as his feet kicked into auto-pilot, hurrying along behind Cid. "... Wait, what?" They'd just gotten married. What was "better" than that?

The captain grinned smugly and merely said, "You'll see..."

* * *

When they burst back out through the doors, accompanied by the applause from inside the church, there was absolutely no question what the surprise was.

Vincent's eyes swept over the sleek two-seat patroller, carbon black from the nose through the body, making way like a shadow in sunlight for a high gloss candy apple red on the wings and tail. It made him think of a piece of coal ember flickering with licks of light; immediately after that, he realized that Cid had probably been thinking about his hair and eyes instead.

"This is... for me?" the ex-Turk asked, even though the answer was obvious. How had they managed to get a plane in the small clearing in front of the church, and without him hearing it? Or had he been so preoccupied inside that he hadn't noticed?

"Absolutely! I call her the Valentine but you can rename 'er if ya want. I thought ya might like flyin' a bit more if I put together a plane with you in mind, rather than the other way 'round."

"But how...? When...?"

"I did say I had a rush job, didn't I?" Cid's grin was cocky. "I have distant cousins in North Corel and they do fabrication work fer me sometimes; had 'em handle most of the assembly to keep ya in the dark. Then when we were away fer a week lendin' Nanaki a hand in Cosmo Canyon, Shera had it brought back to Rocket Town to finish 'er up. Had the Turks deliver it ta Edge from there, 'n now here it is!" He pulled himself up on the boarding ladder and popped open the cockpit. "Come on, lemme show ya all the cool stuff in here."

For comfort the seats were covered in supple black leather and piped in gold, with the passenger's seat capable of a full recline, and there were separate climate control panels for each compartment plus warmers built into the seats themselves. Cid had thought about practicality too... photochromatic tinted glass with an additional slidable sun shield addressed Vincent's eye strain, heavy use of sound dampening materials muffled the humming of the engine, and most of the flight controllers and levers were placed on the right for Vincent's ease of use. And of course it was armed; Cid generally didn't add armaments to smaller planes, but there was a missile launcher and a gun turret built in as well - just in case.

"It's really amazing, Chief," Vincent enthused, though now he was starting to feel a little badly about the fact that the only thing he'd gotten for Cid was a small box of premium cigars from Costa del Sol. How could that match up against a custom built plane? But the engineer looked so incredibly delighted that his gift was well received... Vincent didn't want to do or say anything to diminish that.

"So ya wanna take 'er out fer a spin? Say... to the Shera for the reception?"

Vincent's head swiveled. Maybe it was his relative inexperience as a pilot, but he didn't see how that was possible. "But there's no way to take off from here."

"The Valentine's capable of a vertical takeoff and landing. I sorta had this idea ya see, of combining th' capabilities of a helicopter, plane and rocket all in one." Cid shrugged, like it was no big deal to reinvent what aircraft were capable of, and then he cackled. "'Cause... well, why not?"

Vincent's mouth flopped open like a fish. Cid was absolutely sparkling with pride and glee. If he hadn't already been in love with the man before, he certainly would be wholly charmed by now. "I... okay. You'll have to walk me through it, though."

"Ya know how to fly a chopper so ya already know how to take off. So get in, get in! Let's get this baby in the air."

* * *

The wedding guests had to make their own way to the outskirts of Edge, where the Shera was parked. Cloud pulled Denzel onto the Fenrir with him and they made a valiant attempt to race the Valentine, but once the plane had gained enough clearance to switch to standard flight form, the bike fell behind readily.

Due to the mishmash of transports, folks trickled in in clumps. The active Turks and Rufus took to the air in their posh helicopter, with most of the ghosts relying on personal vehicles like cars and motorcycles. Barret drove Elmyra, Tifa and Marlene in his truck, with Yuffie and Nanaki hitching along in the back, and Shelke and Shera joined Reeve in his sedan, while the convoy of Rocket Town denizens and Highwind Aviation employees gathered in an assortment of rented vans and buggies for the sake of efficiency.

The airship had been moderately decorated with colored lights and a few clusters of flowers from the church, and though she hadn't been designed to host gatherings the crew had done an admirable job in transforming the ship's loading bay into something resembling a banquet hall. Cid had specifically said he didn't want anything "girly" so Elena had restrained herself on décor, but as that was about the extent of his requests (and Vincent didn't make any at all) she'd gone to town on ordering enough food and drink to feed a small town. Tifa and Barret had offered to help man the bar so soon the booze was steadily flowing, and with a huge spread of dishes from every corner of the planet available on the other side of the room the guests were all in a very good mood indeed.

The newlyweds mostly stayed at their table. They didn't need to work the room when guests were more than happy to come by to congratulate them and wish them well, or to bring them anything they needed. Tifa sent over a bottle of Vincent's favorite wine and Reeve even had a second Cait Sith kick in by having him fetch plates of food for the couple while the first robotic cat continued taking photos. After a bit Shera pulled up a chair to join in the idle chatter, though the reality was she worried that Vincent would struggle with so much socializing. And while he didn't verbally acknowledge what she was doing, he gave her a thin smile and leaned against her a bit every now and then, grateful for a reprieve when it all became too much.

Eventually Veld made his way over, wearing the returned trench coat and accompanied by the younger woman Cid had spotted before. Vincent stiffened as soon as he saw them approaching, but kept his face neutral as he and his fellow ex-Turk studied each other for a drawn out moment.

"Congratulations, Vincent," Veld finally said.

Shera looked between them, then excused herself to get another drink. She still found Vincent in "work mode" to be intimidating, even though he'd barely tapped into it... he could be so grave and cold that she swore the temperature dropped around him. Cid straightened up in his seat but stayed out of it for the time being.

"Thank you for coming, Verdot. I see Elena had no trouble tracking you down," Vincent replied.

"I go by Veld now. That's the price of being declared legally dead, I suppose."

"Not the worst price to pay," Vincent commented. If that had been the worst that had happened to him, he could've lived with it.

"You're right." Veld shook his head. "Oh, and this is my daughter, Felicia. Felicia, my old partner, Vincent Valentine."

The raven-haired man politely shook her hand and commented, "You look very much like your mother, Amelia."

"Oh, you knew my mother?"

A momentary smirk tugged at the corner of Vincent's lips. "I pushed your father into asking her out," he fake whispered at her. "Or else he would've kept 'conveniently' showing up wherever she was. For a Turk, he sure made lousy excuses when it came to approaching a young lady working at a cafe."

She smiled, charmed by the thought. Veld grumbled something about he would've gotten around to it one day, then said, "Felicia, if it's all right, could you go order me a scotch?"

She frowned momentarily, knowing she was being dismissed, but left without protest.

Vincent inclined his head at the seat that Shera had vacated. Veld sat down, then said in a hushed tone, "My greatest regrets are failing Amelia, Felicia and you."

The sharpshooter nodded. He hadn't missed that Felicia had used past tense in referring to her mother. "What happened to your wife?"

Veld glanced at Cid, but the blond was pretending to not hear a thing. The older man drummed his fingers on the table, undecided if he wanted to have the conversation at all, but he'd opened the door for it, hadn't he?

"There was a bombing operation scheduled north of Kalm. I messed up. It hit the town instead," Veld admitted in the barest whisper he could manage. "Over half the residents in the area were killed, including Amelia. The survivors... I was told to send them for medical treatment... in Nibelheim."

Suddenly seething, Cid shot to his feet. "Motherfuckin' son of a...!"

"Cid. Not now."

Everything on Cid's face said he desperately wanted to argue, but he knew he couldn't. It almost made it worse that Vincent was staring at him with complete calm; he'd already figured it out, then. "Guess I'm gonna need a drink too," Cid fumed, storming off.

Veld mindlessly tapped on the table again. "I shouldn't have said anything."

Vincent couldn't help but notice his old partner's left hand was a prosthetic. Even with a glove dulling the sound, the ringing of metal on metal was impossible to hide. He snorted. What a pair they made. "It's fine. I asked."

Veld sighed. "The worst part is, I didn't even question it. Not when you were reported as a casualty in the line of duty, not when they claimed Felicia died from her injuries. I didn't investigate further; I just accepted it as truth."

"Like a good Turk."

"Like an absolute idiot," Veld immediately scoffed.

There was an awkward moment of silence. Vincent didn't want to agree, but he kind of did. They'd both been willfully ignorant of what their jobs entailed. "Even I accepted the official report that you'd been executed for dereliction of duty."

The older man waved that off. The only thing Vincent was guilty of was not seeking him out and reestablishing contact with him. His failings were far more egregious and had directly led to both Felicia and Vincent suffering at the hands of a madman.

But the sharpshooter wasn't willing to be dismissed so easily. "I spent thirty years haunted by my sins and failures. I would've probably wasted another thirty bemoaning all I could or should have done, but Cid wouldn't let me."

"You chose a good partner. He told me that drowning in my regrets wouldn't change anything, that if I wanted forgiveness, I had to stand up and do something about it." Veld tapped on the table a couple more times, then tightened his hand into a fist. "I almost didn't come. But it wasn't like I'd get another chance to attend your wedding. Even Felicia scolded me; she said she'd come without me if I really was such a coward."

"I never blamed you for what happened to me. Part of me still thinks it would've been better if no one had ever found me. I know that's not true - I would've never met Cid otherwise - but I still have days where it's hard to push those doubts out of my head."

"I convinced myself that you would not see me, that I had no right to approach you. Felicia disagreed. But Tseng continued to feed me updates, regardless. I heard about what you accomplished with AVALANCHE, and then your role in ending the Geostigma crisis and of course, the recent Deepground incident. Meanwhile I remained in hiding with Felicia and 'stayed dead,' like a good ghost."

"'Senior Director' would indicate you failed at that, as well. And I can't imagine you didn't poke your head out of your hiding hole when the ghosts were swarming Midgar during Meteorfall."

Veld chuckled dryly. He'd forgotten just how sharp and quick witted Vincent was; that was what had made him such a stellar Turk and partner. "Are you really retired?" It'd be a tremendous waste if he was.

"We both know the answer to that." Turks officially retired when they were six feet under, so the saying went. Vincent wondered if being stuck in a coffin for three decades counted. He quirked a half-smile. "I'm an aeronautical electrician now, apparently."

"That pay well, at least?"

"I get room and board in an old rancher that hasn't been updated since braided rugs were a thing, as long as I make dinner on nights when Shera and Cid are working overtime. Which is about three or four nights a week. But as a bonus, I can park as many aircraft as I want behind the house, and there's no gun restrictions so it's open season on cans and bottles on the back fence."

Veld's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Gods, I've missed talking to you."

"Ya forgot the annual tumbleweed invasion in late summer, when shit's all dried up," Cid commented. He'd returned with a tumbler of whiskey and Felicia and Shera in tow. Shera was sipping at a colorful cocktail; Felicia placed a snifter on the table in front of her father, and waited.

"How could I forget? It piles up by the fences and the porch and pretty much makes it impossible to go anywhere on foot for two weeks," Vincent volleyed back as Cid retook his seat. He leaned against his husband, glad that he'd cooled off fairly quickly. It wasn't like Cid was mad at Veld anyhow... anything Hojo related tended to set off fireworks, no matter the crowd.

"I thought you liked the rugs," Cid casually continued. Ah, he'd been listening in, then.

"I said they were 'interesting,' Chief. It's not the same."

"Well fuck, shoulda told me ya didn't like 'em. They're hard on the knees ya know? I still have rug burns from..."

Vincent quickly slapped his hand over the blond's mouth though that didn't stop those blue eyes from sparking with mischief, as Shera buried her face in her hand. "I have to sit on that sofa too, you know," she groaned.

Veld took the hint to scram. He stood up, picking up his drink. "Is it all right if I call you from time to time?"

"I'm sure you have my number whether I gave it to you or not," was Vincent's quick, dry reply.

Shera looked at the now available seat, then decided since she was already up and everyone should've long since arrived, it was probably about time for a toast. She turned around, held her glass aloft, cleared her throat, and tried to get the room's attention. "Excuse me, I'd like to give a toast. Excuse me, everyone?"

A piercing whistle suddenly cut through the air. Vincent scowled, wincing... it was going to take a while to clear out the ringing.

"Oh, sorry Vince, I didn't mean to do that," said Yuffie contritely. She'd been nearby, seen Shera struggling, and jumped in to help out without fully thinking things through. She clapped her hands instead, then yelled. "Hey everyone, pipe down! Shera's giving a toast!"

Shera smiled gratefully at the ninja as the room quieted down and all eyes swiveled to the newlyweds' table. "Well as you all know, I live with these two, so I've had a front row seat to their relationship from the start, not that I realized that until much later."

"I've known Cid since we were kids; we met early on in elementary school I think? Even back then he was always fascinated by the sky - he said one day he was going to be the first man to make it to the sun, to the moon." She paused, sorting through her many memories of her long time friend. "He once sprained his ankle leaping off the swings because he was convinced that if he tried hard enough, maybe he could learn to fly. Head in the clouds - that's how he's always been."

"The first time I met Vincent, it was like Cid had brought home a potted plant. He stayed out of the way and didn't say more than yes, no, and please the whole time he was there. I've held more conversation with my sister's deaf cat." Predictably, there was a smattering of laughter at her description, but everyone who knew Vincent back then knew it was pretty on point too. "I didn't think anything of it at first, but after Meteorfall, Cid asked if I'd be okay with Vincent moving in with us. I admit I was nervous about living with a former Turk. But even though Vincent was still quiet he remained polite, and Cid... Cid was more optimistic and energetic than he'd been in a long time. He threw himself back into work with gusto, saying he wanted to make a difference, not just for us, but for the planet and the future. He wanted to build a new rocket, better engines that didn't use mako, faster and more efficient transports. He got everyone else on board too."

"Vincent stayed a while then started coming and going, like the wind. It couldn't be helped; the world was still in distress and he could do something about it. But I noticed that Cid's mood would drop when he wasn't around. He'd even work slower."

She took in a deep breath. "And then one night Vincent stumbled in late, unannounced, and Cid stared at him with a sort of awe and reverence like a star had just fallen out of the sky and landed in front of him... and I realized I'd completely misunderstood just how important Vincent was to him."

A faintly blushing Vincent slid a glance at Cid; his spouse was flushed as well.

"Sh... shit. Was I that obvious?" the pilot stammered. He hadn't exactly been hiding it but they hadn't been in anything resembling a conventional relationship either, so trying to define what was going on between them at the time had been beyond him. Good thing Shera had never asked! His main concern back then was making sure Vincent wasn't uncomfortable as he gently coaxed him out of his shell and back into some sort of everyday, normal life. But things were undeniably clearer now, and perhaps it was time he just came out and broadcast it to the world. "Well then, I guess I gotta say something too, since... well, since we've got everyone here, and it's not like any of this is a secret, and I wanna make sure I'm clear, Vince, just how much this means ta me..."

"Remember that day when Shinra No. 26 finally made it into space? 'N I told ya that was th' best moment of my life?" Cid waited for Vincent's nod, sucked in a breath, then plunged ahead. "Well, guess Shera had a point. That ain't got nuthin' on today. I'd trade every rocket, every moon and star in the sky, ta see ya smilin' like ya have today, Sweetheart. 'Cause that's how much I love ya."

Vincent's entire face erupted in crimson. Having Shera sweetly make an observation was one thing; Cid loudly declaring it to the whole assembly was another. He ducked his head, immediately remembered he had no cowl to hide in, not even his hair to veil his blush, and ended up pressing his face into Cid's shoulder in embarrassment.

"Awww...!" went several female voices in the room.

"Shaddup!" Cid snapped back, though he kind of agreed with them. But he also hadn't meant to put Vincent on the spot like that, so he quickly reached up and pulled out the red ribbon tying back the long black hair, letting it spill back into its usual curtain around Vincent's face and shoulders.

Vincent slowly peered up at him, ruby eyes glimmering from beneath long, tousled bangs.

Cid suddenly shivered, struck by a maddening desire to coo at him. How can he be so damn cute?! This was the side of Vincent that only he was privy to, soft and snuggly as a kitten, so far removed from his persona as a Turk that it was almost unbelievable. "An... anyhow..." Cid took another breath and steadied himself. "Yeah. Without a doubt, this is tha best day of my life," he stated, as the crowd applauded.

Vincent gave a tiny nod, so slight that no one, not even Cid, saw it. He'd only felt it since the ex-Turk was still leaning into him. The captain pushed his hand under the heavy fall of hair and Vincent pressed against it, his eyes sliding shut as he took a moment to settle himself before breathing, "Mine too."

Cid grinned from ear to ear. "Damn, I'm so happy. And it's all because of you," he murmured as he ran his fingers through long locks. It had been a nice change of pace to see Vincent with his hair tied back, but Cid definitely preferred it down, just so he could stroke it like this as Vincent trembled faintly against his shoulder.

After a few minutes - and with no further interruptions - Vincent finally lifted his head enough to say, "I promise I'm not complaining - this really has been an amazing day! - but I never want to do this again. It's exhausting, and we didn't even have to do anything but show up."

"Of course we ain't doin' this again! Marriage is forever ta me; if wanna get rid of me, yer gonna have to kill me," Cid asserted. Vincent hummed his agreement, smiling. "So... you wanna get outta here?"

Was it bad form to sneak out of their own reception? Still, Vincent nodded as he snagged their half-finished drinks.

"Oh no you don't," Shera intercepted. "You have to at least cut the cake." She pointed to the table in the corner, where the two tiered layer cake sat waiting, along with stacks of plates and plenty of forks.

Elena had planned everything else for the reception, but Tifa had specifically laid claim to the right to bake the cake, which turned out to be no small task. She asked them about their favorite flavors: Cid's request was coffee, Vincent mentioned chestnut, but he quickly took it back since he realized it was unusual outside of Wutai and therefore difficult to source. All that did was make Tifa even more determined to work the ingredient into the cake somehow. Thankfully Yuffie and Tseng came through, procuring more than enough candied chestnuts for her to make the filling for the cake, and to scent the buttercream frosting with.

To pull it all off she had two different ovens going and Cloud serving as a second set of hands, mixing and stirring things as needed. She even roped in additional help in the form of Alvis and Elena's older sister Emma, both former Turks who were doing rounds with the others and happened to stick their heads in. In lieu of flowers or ribbons of frosting or other impersonal trappings, Yuffie, Shelke and Barret helped the kids bake sugar cookies and decorate them, so the cake was topped with a smiling cookie Cid and Vincent holding hands, a rusty looking rocket, a silvery blob that was either the Shera or the Highwind, and a church with yellow and white flowers. Cookie-fied members of AVALANCHE and anyone else the kids could think of ringed the rest of the cake, including a number of black suited Turks and even a gold chocobo.

"So I just cut it?" Cid asked, picking up the cake knife once he and Vincent were done admiring it. A crowd was gathering around them, eager for dessert, or just to compliment the kids on the decorations.

"Yup. Just cut a slice for yourselves, we'll take care of the rest," Tifa said, her hands firmly planted on her hips.

It took a bit of looking to find a good spot to remove a slice without damaging any of the cookies, but Cid finally did just that, sliding it onto a plate that Tifa handed him.

"Damn, looks good; yer a real pro!" the engineer enthused upon seeing the even layers. He took a closer look at the moist filling. "Hey, is this th' chestnut in here? Good job, Tif'!"

"Wutaian candied chestnut. It's in the frosting too. Thank Tseng and Yuffie for finding some for me."

Vincent smiled a bit awkwardly, surprised yet delighted that she'd been able to fulfill his difficult request. "Can we take these cookies too?" He pointed at the edible versions of themselves adorning the top.

The pugilist laughed. "Of course! It's your cake."

"I decorated your cookie, Vincent. Denzel did Cid's," Marlene said proudly while Denzel grunted in agreement, trying to pretend like it was no big deal.

Vincent bowed his head at them in acknowledgment and gratitude for their hard work. Marlene giggled and copied his gesture.

Cid was always amused by how well Vincent handled kids, even if the man himself would disagree. The ex-Turk was convinced they ought to fear him, but he was a good listener and never talked down to them, so children took to him quite easily. Eyeing the cookies, Cid joked, "I bet ya can hardly wait to sink yer teeth into me," with a waggle of his brows.

The raven-haired man nearly scolded his husband for flirting in front of the kids, but decided to play along instead, picking up the cookie Cid and taking an exaggerated bite out of it, leaving the cookie with only part of one leg and half its torso.

"Ouch! Damn!" said Cid, acting like he was wounded.

"Is it good?" Marlene asked eagerly.

"It is," Vincent assured her once he finished chewing. "Thank you."

"So we did the deed. Can we go?" Cid asked, spinning a fork around between his fingers, like a tiny spear. He was eager to have some cake, but even more excited about getting some fresh air and a little peace and privacy.

There would traditionally be a few rounds of dancing to finish off the celebration but Shera knew neither man would be keen on that, especially in front of an audience. And people were too busy socializing and eating to care about the lack of music anyhow. "Well, I suppose..."

"Great! See ya in a bit!" Cid said, grabbing Vincent's wrist and disappearing through the doorway before anyone else could protest their leaving.

* * *

Over forty minutes had passed and things were winding down in the banquet hall. No one could possibly eat or drink any more, and the sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, so unfortunately that meant some of the attendees had to start thinking about departing or risk riding home in the dark.

The Turks weren't immune to that either. Tseng had been fine giving everyone the day off, but that meant duties that had been deferred for the day would need to be dealt with that night instead. Since the newlyweds hadn't reappeared, they went looking for them. Shera mentioned that they were most likely on the upper deck and sure enough they were, hanging out at the railing while passing around the stub of a cigar, an empty cake plate, whiskey tumbler, and wine bottle nearby. Cid had unbuttoned his jacket and undone his cravat; Vincent's hair was still loose, but looked wilder than before thanks to the air currents rising up over the hull of the ship.

"I thought you quit, yo," Reno said, indicating the nub.

"I did," Cid replied, taking a slow drag and holding it for several long seconds before releasing a soft puff of smoke. "It's our weddin', so go suck a dick."

Reno snickered. "Isn't that what you... OOF!"

"Did you two forget about everyone downstairs?" Elena teased after having slammed her elbow into the redhead's ribs.

As she spoke, Vincent casually draped himself over Cid's shoulders, his eyes faintly glowing like embers in a dying campfire. The sharpshooter couldn't get drunk, not with the amount of augmentation he'd had, but the majority of a bottle of wine plus half of Cid's whiskey was enough to soften up his edges temporarily.

"Not at all. Wanted ta watch the sunset first," Cid explained as he leaned back against Vincent while examining his gifted cigar with regret. There really wasn't enough left of it to comfortably hold, though Vincent could manage with his gauntlet if he wanted to, so Cid handed it back to him instead.

"Hmm. I suppose we can have people come up if they wish to give their regards, then," Elena mused.

Cid glanced at his lover; Vincent took a small puff and shrugged in return. They certainly couldn't turn guests away when they merely wanted to say goodbye.

"Regretfully, we'll be the first to leave," said Rufus, with a polite bow of his head. "Thank you for inviting us all."

"Recruits don't train themselves, unfortunately," Tseng added with a smirk.

"Man, what a harsh taskmaster," Cid complained.

"Turks don't get days off. Shitty benefits, can't even retire in peace," Vincent mumbled, the words wrapped in a lazy ribbon of smoke.

"Is that why ya quit?" Cid chuckled.

Vincent purred near Cid's ear, the sound vibrating along his skin. He smiled, then pushed off Cid's shoulders and stepped around him, dropping the stub into the whiskey glass. He approached Elena, tilting his head slightly as he regarded the petite blonde, then he opened up his right arm and waited.

Elena looked up at him, momentarily stunned. Vincent wasn't the sort of person you ran up to and hugged. Turks in general weren't the type of people one would embrace with or without warning, but Vincent was more intolerant than most. He accepted it from Cid of course, and Shera to some degree, but even closer friends like Yuffie and Tifa knew to keep any unasked for contact to a minimum.

She stepped forward, awkwardly placing one arm around him while he wrapped his around her shoulders. He gave her a very slight squeeze as he said, "Thank you for everything," before releasing her.

"... Of course! Every girl wants to plan a wedding, right?" she said, rocking up slightly on her toes.

Vincent hummed in agreement, then made sure he had her attention as he flicked his gaze towards Tseng and back. Her eyes widened, but he didn't do or say anything more on that front other than grin rather toothily at her.

After a round of obligatory have-a-good-evening's, the Turks and their boss headed back down and out towards their helicopter, parked next to the Valentine. Elena glanced back at the Shera, at the two figures still up on the deck, now saying good night to Barret and Elmyra from the looks of it. Cid's head was thrown back in laughter as Barret animatedly gestured his way through a story; Vincent's hair whipped over his shoulder as he pushed it out of the way and leaned down to rest his chin on Cid's shoulder once again. She turned back towards Tseng's sharp silhouette, now several strides in front of her. Before she could rethink what she was about to do, she ran up behind him, reached out, and touched his wrist.

He stopped and turned his head, his eyebrow arching in question.

Elena's mind went blank. Her mouth went ahead for her. "If you're not doing anything tomorrow night, would you like to have dinner?"

"Ooooh...!" Reno wound up.

Rude rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses and dragged his partner away as Rufus smirked and continued towards the chopper.

Tseng's second eyebrow momentarily joined the first, then his features settled back into their usual smooth calm, with just a hint of amusement in his dark eyes. He'd known about her interest in him for a long time, but since she hadn't voiced it, he'd simply left it alone. But Cid and Vincent's engagement and marriage had apparently gotten her fired up enough to act. And that was fine; he was willing to see where things would go. "All right. We can do that."

"... Really?"

He dipped his head, then gestured for her to walk next to him instead of a step behind, like she'd been trained to do. "Yes, really."

She sucked in a breath, feeling a squeal coming on, but managed to tamp it down, redirecting all that energy into a sunny smile instead. "I'm looking forward to it!"

The corner of Tseng's mouth lifted in response.

* * *

* * *

Author's Notes:

- Vincent talking to Veld (and Tseng last chapter) about forgiveness was inspired by the scene in AC where Cloud asks if sins are ever forgiven, and Vincent answers, "I've never tried." But if things had gone differently for Vincent by that point (namely, a relationship with Cid), maybe he would've forgiven himself of the sins he was so convinced were his, or at least tried to. So that'd mean he could flip that knowledge onto someone else.

- BC Turks reference: Alvis is Rod (Male) and Emma is Gun (Female). I wanted to include Emma just for the fact that she's Elena's sister.

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

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.

Archived at: http://www.phenixsol.com/Miko/FF/