Ignoring the protests from the authorities, Cid ran over and started tossing heavier bits of debris aside. The men shut up one the realized not only that Cid was far stronger than either of them, but so frantic and desperate they’d lose a finger or two if they go in his way.

The dog kept pulling on Vincent’s arm, slowly tugging Vincent from the collapsed hotel.

"He’s still breathing! Get over here!" One of the men yelled to the woman and her kid, who ran over as soon as they heard he’d survived.

"He survived!" the other man yelled.

The dog, unable to state something obvious, started licking Vincent’s face before being shoved away. Annoyed, the dog started digging and sniffing at the debris.

"Screw this! He needs a hospital!" Cid yelled, then realized what he had just said. If Vincent woke up in the hospital, surrounded by doctors in white coats and messing with his wounds, there’d be some definite carnage. If he didn’t wake up, but Vincent found out Cid had taken him to a hospital; he’d have the Death Penalty up his ass before it went off.

Then again, Vincent had changed since Cid had last known him. Considering the sex—the really great sex—that before Vincent would never had consented to and attempts usually made Cid sleep on the couch for a few nights, maybe Vincent had come to terms with other things.

"The nearest hospital’s in North Corel," one man said.

"He won’t make it," the other said.

The dog whimpered in sympathy.

"Fuck that. I got a plane and I wouldn’t follow speed limits if there were any. I can get him to damn good doctor in five minutes tops. Just throw some bandages on him so he doesn’t fall apart and give him to me."

"We were hoping to question him later, sir."

"Well question him when he’s conscious and not bleeding all over the place!"

"Sir, he’s the only one who survived. We already pulled all the other guests out, but they were all dead from sword wounds. Even the manager and his daughter were dead."

"We didn’t even know he was here. We checked the roster, and he wasn’t listed in it," his buddy said.

"Whatever, give him to me and we’ll focus on keeping him alive," Cid demanded.

"Hey, do we tell you how to do your job?" One of them said.

"Well you told me some shit about better behavior for someone in jail for murder when I didn’t do it."

"Look, just go away and don’t come back for a long time and you can take him."

Cid took Vincent from the woman, who had barely managed to apply enough bandages on him and took off to the plane, which he swore couldn’t be parked farther away.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Hang on Vince, I’ll get you somewhere they’ll fix you up real good. And please don’t kill me," Cid said, desperately.

Vincent couldn’t be paying less attention, still unconscious. Cid had had a hard time buckling Vincent in. It was bad enough Vincent wasn’t cooperating and bled all over the seatbelts, making them slippery and too grimy to work, but he kept slumping and slipping out of the seat.

"Come on, you dumb plane, go faster!" Cid muttered.

"Yes, talking to it is going to help, I can see why you’re such an expert mechanic," an all too familiar and very smug voice said.

Cid screamed and turned around, only to have the plane start to barrel roll once he let go of the controls.

Before they hit the ground, the plane leveled itself upright and started to climb in altitude again.

"Yeah, give the pilot a heart attack, real smart!" Cid yelled. "And how the hell did you get on my plane?"

"The door was unlocked," Sephiroth said, standing up, but completely unfazed from the nearly fatal stunt.

"Why the hell are you here?"

"There’s absolutely nothing on that continent. I know that and I’ve been dead for god knows how long."

"Three years. But that doesn’t explain why you’re on my plane."

"Someone took my sword. Someone who knew I’d come back and knew most of my powers were due to Jenova."

"And?"

"And there were very few people aware of the powers of Jenova, especially of the ability to come back from the dead. If they took my sword, they not only want someone dead, but they want to start a panic at the same time."

"Fucking great, Shirley."

"I think you mean ‘Sherlock.’"

"I don’t fucking care! Why MY plane?"

"Because you were interested in why the bomb went off in the crater and so am I."

"Look, just ‘cause your following me doesn’t mean we’re on the same side."

"Pity. And I thought you were smart. I don’t recommend declaring me your enemy."

He had a point, Cid realized. Jenova or no Jenova, dress or no dress, flying or not flying, making Sephiroth your enemy was on anyone’s the top ten list of things not to do, right above wandering into Midgar Zolom country during mating season.

"Okay, fine. But if you’re in my plane or my house you follow my rules."

"Yes, fine, I’ll pick up my socks. What about him? Do you usually cart corpses around, or did you lose a bet."

"Don’t you touch him or I’ll take my hands of these controls on purpose!"

"Yes, mom."

"Okay, first rule. Don’t you ever fucking call me that again or I’m going to improve that girly hairdo of yours!"

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

Daren was in a cheerful mood, whistling, as he wiped down the counter, ready to leave for the day.

Everything—his mood, his whistling, and his cleaning, was interrupted as he heard someone kick his door down, off it’s hinges.

"You could have knocked!" he complained as he turned around to see Cid Highwind barging in. "Or used the doorknob!"

"No time. Here," Cid said, thrusting Vincent into Daren’s arms.

"What do you mean ‘here?’" Daren asked, struggling to hold Vincent up.

"Holy crap, what a wuss," Cid said, taking Vincent form Daren. "You’re a doctor, fix him!"

"Fix him? What the hell’s wrong with him?"

"What kinda of a goddamn doctor are you? Look at him?"

"I meant what the hell happened to him. Don’t handle him like that! Any bones broken?"

"How should I know? You’re the doctor!"

"Well, has the bleeding stopped?"

"I dunno."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"I dunno. Look, shut up and start fixing him before I rip your throat out."

"I’m a doctor not a plumber! You can’t just take him apart and figure out what’s wrong later?"

"Why not?"

"Here, just put him down on the table there. He’s breathing so he’s going to survive. I think you’d be a bigger help to your friend here if you left."

"I’m not leaving him alone with you! Who knows where you’ve been!"

"I came back from the dead for this?" Sephiroth, who had been in the doorway the entire time, asked himself.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

As much as he’d protested to stay and watch every move Daren made, Cid was out of the tiny hospital in less than fifteen minutes. Vincent had a very bad black eye, well, more indigo than black, and Daren had been right to check the actual eyeball for damage. The minute he started operating on the eye, Cid fell backwards on the floor with a deafening thud.

Daren had gone back to operating, not noticing who it was who dragged Cid out of the room.

Cid woke up outside and decided to sit on he steps of the revamped building-turned-hospital while Sephiroth ignored him. Considering the alternatives, it suited Cid just fine.

It was five hours before Daren came out. "Okay. That should do it." There was blood all over his face, hands, and clothes. He wiped his brow, only spreading the blood around on his face. "He should be fine. Be careful that he doesn’t pop the stitches, and don’t take the bandage off his eye for the next two days. You can take him home; now go make threats on someone else’s life."

Cid leapt up and ran in to retrieve Vincent, obviously not wanting him to stay here a second longer.

Daren and Sephiroth looked at each other. Daren blinked and tilted his head slightly.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow.

"You look familiar," the both said at once.

"So… what exactly happened?" Daren asked.

"I wasn’t there. I heard the hotel collapsed and everyone else died of sword wounds."

Daren noticed Sephiroth seemed interested in the sword wound part, but he decided it was better not to ask anyone who seemed too interested in weapons lest they decide to try one out. "Interesting. Most of the wounds on him were made with a sword. He’s tougher than I thought."

"You sure it was a sword?"

"Either that or a very thin baseball bat."

"Hey you!" Daren heard Cid yell. That had become one of Cid’s nicer names for him.

"Yes?" Daren asked, turning to Cid.

"What’s the big idea taking his shirt off?"

"Oh for—Don’t carry him like that!"

"Answer my damn question! Why’d you take Vincent’s damn shirt off?"

"For crying out loud he had three broken rips and a—that’s Vincent? You mean Vincent Valentine?"

"Hey, hands off!"

"What did you do to piss him off?" Sephiroth asked, only mildly concerned.

"I met him," Daren said.

"I’m leaving and I don’t want you talking to him, I don’t want you touching him, I don’t even want you thinking of doing anything to him!" Cid said, and stormed off, carrying Vincent in his arms.

"One of his more pleasant visits," Daren said, turning around. Sephiroth wasn’t there.

…………………………………………………………………………………

Vincent woke up and looked around. The curtains had been pulled over the window and it was dark. This was Cid’s bed, with Cid in it, but Cid wasn’t cuddling him, trying to cut off circulation in one of his limbs, or putting his hands down Vincent’s pants.

Something was not right. Cid always clung to whatever was handy when he slept. The first night they shared the hotel room, Vincent had to move the Death Penalty before Cid shot his head off while hugging it.

Part of him regretted taking it away. Another part said he should have just turned the gun the other way so Cid would just shoot himself in the foot.

On that note, where the hell was his gun? If he was going to be around Cid, he wanted to be armed.

Then again, if he was going to shoot Cid for being a jackass, he should probably wait for his vision to work again. He could feel the bandage over his right eye.

Nah. He could shoot Cid perfectly with one eye. Maybe even without any, though he didn’t want to test a permanent form of that theory out.

He sat up, and suddenly regretted doing so as every single wound started hurting more as he moved.

Cid mumbled something as the bed shifted and Vincent moved the covers off both of them.

Suddenly finding a bit more resolve, Vincent slowly stood up and tore the covers off the bed.

Satisfied with leaving Cid shivering on the bed, Vincent slowly padded out the door, tossing the covers on the floor.

He heard a slight noise of protest and looked at the floor. There was a pile of black on the floor.

It was too dark in the room, too early, and Vincent was too pissed at Cid to think about it and ignored it as a pile of laundry, not caring when Cid had started wearing black things or when he started leaving his clothes on the floor.

Upon entering the kitchen, Vincent stopped and stared at the two people at the table.

"I see you’re up," Daren said cheerfully, his hand over Shera’s.

"This is—" Shera started.

"Daren, right?" Vincent asked, still staring at the doctor.

Daren nodded.

Seeing that he was right in recognizing Daren, Vincent turned to the fridge and took out the milk carton. "If you’ll excuse me for being rude," Vincent said, and started drinking out of the carton. When he’d stayed at Cid’s house he discovered something absolutely amazing about Shera. She was a total slob. As meticulous as she was with mechanics and cooking, she left food out, dishes on the table and the floor, laundry all over the place, and hardly ever changed out of her grubby clothes after work. "So, when’s the date?"

"What date?" Daren asked. Vincent almost smiled at his nervousness.

Shera turned away.

"Either you’re hiding something or you glued your hands together from across the table."

"We… weren’t going to tell anyone until all of this nasty murder business has been solved," Daren said.

"Hey!" Cid was up.

Vincent was about to glare at Cid for yelling at him about drinking out of the carton or complaining about the blanket. The preparation was in vain, however. For the first time since before they started their relationship, Cid wasn’t paying attention to Vincent at all.

"What’re you doin’ in my house?" Cid yelled at Daren.

"Shera invited me."

"Shera!" Cid yelled. "I asked you to fix a stupid doorbell and then you’re inviting the riffraff in!"

"Cid, I’ve been inviting him over for months," she said.

"I know, and I complained about it then too. What’s it gonna take to get you out of my house?"

"Cid, leave him alone," Vincent said, and finished off the milk in a couple of gulps.

"Not you too!" Cid exclaimed.

"Cid, they’re just like us when we were together. Leave them alone, they make a nice couple."

"Yeah, they are kinda cut—Hey! No way! No one gets horizontal in my house!"

"Especially not you," Sephiroth commented, walking past Cid. Sephiroth contemplated the fridge, but decided he was perfectly content watching Vincent and Cid try to kill each other.

"Hey!" Cid yelled.

Vincent opened his mouth and raised a finger. He blinked twice and indicated to Sephiroth with his thumb, finding his vocal cords out of order.

"Oh, you see him too. It’s not just me then. I guess he’s a group hallucination."

"Cid, I asked you to help figure out who the murderer is, not bring him home with you."

"I haven’t killed anyone since I got back," Sephiroth said, crossing his arms.

"He’s not the murderer," Cid said, waving Sephiroth off.

"Oh, then that’s fine then," Vincent said sarcastically. "You can’t find the murderer, so you show up with another one, brilliant."

"Oh he’s fine once you ignore him," Cid said.

"I ask you for help—I ask you for help when god knows how many lives are on the line."

"Yes, you’re fucking welcome for saving your life. You’re goddamn fucking welcome for jumping in a damn plane with you while I’m dying of frostbite so I can have someone sew up your damn ass! You’re so goddamn motherfucking welcome for me getting back in time, think nothing of it, you fucking git!"

"You were the one who comes back from accomplishing less than nothing only to have your head down my shorts!"

"I wasn’t the one throwing condoms around!"

"I think I’ll leave before they start screwing each other to death on the table," Daren said quietly and got up. He kissed Shera on the cheek and hurried out the door, shielding himself in case Cid started throwing things at him like usual.

"Hey!" Cid yelled. "There will be no kissing in this house! You hear me?"

"I’ll agree to that one," Vincent said, taking advantage of Cid’s back being turned and putting the empty milk carton back in the fridge. "Where’s my gun, I want to shoot you with it."

Cid sighed. "They said they’d send it to you in the mail. They only found the little one."

"Who’s going to send it in the mail? Where’s my Death Penalty?"

"Those idiots up in that measly little excuse for a village," Cid said. "Considering how dumb they are I’m surprised they recognized it. They’re probably going to have the dog address the envelope. Where the hell are you going?"

"To find someone competent to help me."

"Good luck," Sephiroth said.

"Oh no you’re not!" Cid yelled, grabbing Vincent by the arm. Vincent spun around and punched Cid in the face. Cid didn’t let go.

"Look, you can yell at me, you can piss me off, you can ask me for help, and you can even fucking shoot me, Vince. I’m not letting you wander off again!"

"Oh, now you want me!"

"Of course I want you. I always wanted you, dumbass!"

"Just like when you told me to get the hell out of Rocket Town."

"Fine. I made you leave, so I’m going to pay for it. I told you to go figure out your life and if I’m not included in it then that’s fucking that. But you are NOT leaving in that condition with some psycho tryin’ to kill you."

Vincent said nothing. Even with only one eye he managed to be pretty intimidating and it was finally working on Cid. That didn’t make him let go of his arm.

"Look, if we’re not both hallucinating this guy, someone tried to kill him too," Cid said, pointing at Sephiroth. "If they knew he was comin’ back and that you were in that hotel then when you had your name taken off the roster to protect yourself, we’re dealin’ with someone pretty goddamn smart. We’re dealing’ with someone smart, we’re dealin’ with someone capable of dishin’ out a lotta overkill, and we’re dealin’ with some bastard that knows about you, him, and Jenova and what you’re all capable of. In my book I’d say that’s pretty damn high odds to survive by wandering out into the street, unarmed and alone in the middle of the day."

"Never tell me the odds, Cid. I know how much you suck at math."

"You know, you used to call me ‘Chief.’"

"I also used to think you were a decent person. Now I just think you’re smart."

"Great more zombies. What are you still doing here?" Cid yelled at Daren.

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