Cid moved back into the bedroom, despite the fact that Vincent still shied away from him constantly. Then there were the mood swings that started soon after Vincent took the antidepressants. Cid had either forgotten or not heard the doctor’s warnings at all.
Cid thought things were bad with Vincent not wanting to even touch him in bed and staying awake all night worrying about being sick on Cid, then waking up with Vincent clinging steadfastly to him in the morning, whether he got sick or not.
Once Shera promised the doctor said it would be temporary, the weeks of mood swings were easily ignored once they decided Vincent wasn’t going to hurt anyone, especially himself.
He alternated between lethargy and restlessness; one day he needed something to do and another he didn’t want to get out of bed. One day he didn’t want to talk about anything short of dinner, another he wanted to hear how everyone’s day went, the next he wanted to talk, to absolutely anyone. He was constantly seeking and giving reassurance that he was fine and that he wasn’t insane.
At least with all his pacing he was getting exercise on his knee.
Cid could ignore the mood swings in the day easily, even if he spent the whole day at home with Vincent. At night, things were different. He wasn’t staring into Vincent’s eyes and hoping to see a smile on Vincent’s face during the day, at least not up close. Vincent wasn’t whispering to him that he wanted to go to work on the Highwind immediately and meet the crew during the day. Vincent wasn’t going dead silent when Cid told him he wanted to wait the entire two months of recovery the doctors had recommended. He didn’t expect to hold Vincent’s hand to comfort him during the day. He wasn’t constantly refused during the day, either. Vincent wasn’t rolling over on the bed away from Cid during the day. Cid wasn’t asking what he’d done to get the cold shoulder and how he could fix it, and Vincent wasn’t constantly replying ‘I don’t know.’ Vincent was crying and whimpering and rolling into a ball just because Cid had kissed him goodnight during the day.
Cid ended up spending more time worrying than sleeping while in his own bed. Once Vincent fell asleep, Cid would worry about everything Vincent had been worrying about, despite the fact that Cid had spent an hour trying to reassure him.
Cid never realized how fragile either of them was during the day. Vincent was too scared to even hold hands, fearing something would happen and Cid would be hurt. Then silent crying would turn into even breathing and Vincent would whimper and then notice how soft and warm Cid was and curl up as close as he could get. Cid chased away all the nightmares, and after putting his head on Cid’s shoulder, Vincent would whisper something inaudible, a magic spell for all Cid knew. It probably was; Vincent would always smile afterwards, and Cid would be even more scared for him. For both of them.