Midgar Burning - Chapter 12
Hey folks! *waves* remember us? Yeeeeaaah, life has been...busy to say the least, and our posting schedule has been thrown way out of whack. Silence came to visit the floating island that is my home several weeks back and shit's been hitting the fan left and right since then...but we had a good vacation though! Got nothing productive done, yay! So, back to MB - this chaper is short and we apologize. Chapters will be posted the next two days to try and make up for this...tease?...of a chapter? Thanks for your patience, those who have stuck with us: we appreciate you!!
Title: Midgar Burning
Authors: silence_laughs and calvi_sama
Pairing: Cid x Vincent
Rating: NC-17 (eventually), most certainly R
Disclaimer: We do not in any way own, nor profit from, the characters and/or locations of FFVII, that would all be Square Enix. Also any other references to persons or products mentioned herein are purely coincidental *coughs*
Warnings: Adult themes, blood, some violence, language, kidnapping, torture, mentions of abuse, murder, and above all else...yaoi, the 'inappropriate to minors' kind, the 'makes us sit up past our bedtimes reading' kind, 'cause lets face it folks, it just wouldn't be the same without it! >:3
Summary: Even as Cid fights to show Vincent it’s okay to love again, Vincent’s enemies are moving in. Can Cid secure a place in Vincent’s heart before their world falls apart?
A/N: Two things folks: 1) This is an RP and 2) This fic is AU. The usual players here: silence = Cid, and all in Cid's world, and yours truly = Vincent, and all in Vin's world. Easiest way to say it. ^^ This fic is a 'novel'-form piece (ie multi-chapter) that is darker than what we normally write, and out of our comfort zone in the fact that we normally prefer to stick to canon-type stuff. But I got the idea from ani_mama's artwork (more specifically this picture), persuaded silence to "go along with it", and it's been going 'full steam ahead' since then, and quite grown on us. We hope you all like it!
Chapter 12
Cid had just finished combing his hair -and really, it looked better when he just left it alone- when the doorbell rang. Thrilled all over again at the prospect of having a working doorbell, Cid hurried to open the door for Tseng. “Hey! You wanna come in fer a while, or we ready t’go? An’ speakin’ o’ that, where are we goin’? You gonna have dinner with us?” Before Tseng could answer, Cid’s eyes widened as he realized that he had almost forgotten the mako. He tipped both tubes carefully into the inside pocket of his jacket and returned to the doorway. “Sorry. Almost fergot why I was goin’, is all.”
Tseng blinked at Highwind’s enthusiasm and rapid-fire questions. He was beginning to see how Vincent could get a headache from this man. He bowed slightly and said, holding his arm out for Cid to precede him. “I am ready to leave if you are, sir. And no, I shall not be joining you for ‘dinner’ as this arrangement was made between you and Mr. Valentine. Now, shall we?”
“S’too bad. You ought to sometime.” Cid stepped past Tseng, double-checking the lights and his keys, and waited for Tseng to pass him again to make sure the door was locked. He followed Tseng to the sedan, where he clambered clumsily into the same seat he always occupied. “Big guy ain't here t’day, huh? He all right?”
Tseng grunted and after shutting the door after the cop, walked around to the driver’s seat, got in, checked the traffic, and pulled away from the curb. “He is well, sir.”
“Good. And you?” Staring at his idly tapping feet, Cid found himself once again wondering how Tseng could intimidate him so easily while still making him feel like everything would end well.
Tseng sighed inaudibly, checked traffic again and pulled out into the heavier flow of vehicles. “I am doing well, sir.”
“Glad t’hear it.” And now to the real point of conversation. “Is Vincent- Mr. Valentine, I mean, is ‘e still upset with me? I c’n see as how ‘e would be, but…”
“I’m sure I do not know what you mean, sir.” Tseng replied guardedly, eyeing the cop in the rearview mirror.
“Ain’t no need t’act like that. I know he tells you most everything, an’ I know you read ‘im better’n anyone. He wouldn’t hafta say it for ya t’know about it,” Cid grumped, a bit put out that no one was ever as honest with him as he was with them. He met Tseng’s reflection’s eyes and held them, asking seriously, “You ain’t bringin’ me t’be killed are ya?”
“No, sir.” Tseng replied with a nearly imperceptible quirking of the lips. “You may rest easy in that regard.”
“’kay,” Cid said uneasily, wanting to believe but not quite able to. After a few moments of complete silence, Cid started again. “Hey, uh, Mr. …or, uh…aw, hell, there ain’t nobody else in th’car. You know who I’m talkin’ to.” Cid shifted uncomfortably in his seat again, knowing that if anyone would understand his growing feelings for Vincent, it would be Tseng. He couldn’t quite figure out, though, how much he wanted to say, if anything.
“Yes, Mr. Highwind?” Tseng said patiently, switching lanes again, the oncoming headlights and building lights flashing across their faces.
“Whaddaya s’pose he…d’ya think he hates me?” Cid asked quietly, anxiously anticipating the answer. He almost hoped for an affirmative so he could lay this all to rest and just focus on what needed to be done, but he quickly regretted the thought.
Tseng carefully considered the question and his subsequent answer. Finally he said carefully. “I do not believe he hates you, sir. Rather I believe he does not know what to make of you.”
Cid nodded once slowly, then twice more, quickly. “How do I make ‘im see that I’m not gonna- shit, you remember. I promised you, an’ I’m gonna hold to it, but he don’t believe me. How do I make ‘im understand?” he asked, questions directed more to himself than to Tseng. “An’ I…well, I don’t hate him,” he finished quietly, head hanging and a small smile on his face.
“The only answer I have for you is time, Mr. Highwind.” Tseng said softly, merging with another lane of traffic. Then he said, “Nothing in our world is free. You must understand. If Vincent trusted everyone like you wish him to trust you so blindly, then he would not be alive.” There was an uneasy silence before he finished with, “My advice to you, sir, is to be up front with him. If you require something from him, then inform him of it.”
“I don’t ‘require’ anything,” Cid said softly, looking back up. “I just wish he didn’t hafta hurt so much. It…I wish …well, wishin’ never does a fella any good. He’s gotta go out an’ get what ‘e wants, right? Only what I want is somethin’ y’can’t just take.” The last part was mumbled; he considered the words carefully as if hearing and understanding them for the first time. “Do you think there’s a chance he could ever come t’care about me? Not as a business asset or a favorite client, but more like the way he cares ‘bout you?” If there ain’t, I’ll give up on it now. …Can I give up on it? On him? I don’t think I can.
Tseng’s eyes shot up to look at Cid’s face in the rearview mirror again. Even in the dark car he could tell that the man’s face was red. So that’s it, Tseng thought. “You wish his friendship then?” he asked carefully.
“I do,” Cid answered, meticulously thinking over the rest before he said it, “an’ more than that if th’time ever comes that he’s willin’ t’give it. But I could never…never, ever just take his body. He’s too good fer that, an’ I’m too far gone. I don’t know if you c’n understand. I respect him, and I’ve grown t’care about ‘im a lot, an’…the man he hides is a man I could love fer the rest o’ my life, if he’d only let me. Is it possible t’gain that much trust from him?”
A cold knot formed in Tseng’s belly at the cop’s words. “It is not my place to tell you what Vincent feels or is capable of or will allow himself to feel. He fiercely protects the man you think you know, Mr. Highwind. I have known him the better part of twenty years, and I do not think I know him in the sense that you are referring, he guards himself that well.” Tseng fell quiet, alarmed at what Highwind was wanting. “There was only one other who held his heart in such a manner that you are seeking now. What you do is your business, but I want you to think very carefully about what you are asking of him.”
“I’m not askin’ anything of ‘im. Dontcha see? I never will. He’ll hafta come t’me. An’ even if he never sees, or never responds, I’ll go on lovin’ ‘im the way I’m afraid I’m startin’ to already.” Even though the response had not been as favorable as Cid had hoped, he did not wish that he had not spoken. Tseng would protect Vincent to the very end, he knew, and if he were to have any hope of getting closer to Vincent, he would have to be on good terms with Tseng. “The other…Lucrecia?” He knew he had no right to ask, especially since he already knew the answer -or was fairly certain he did- but he wanted to hear it confirmed. “I’m nothin’ like her, am I?” he asked flatly.
“Oh, but you are, Mr. Highwind.” Tseng said ominously, addressing the first of the cop’s questions. “You’re asking for far more from him than just his body. You’re asking for the very way to utterly destroy him.” He signaled and began to slow as he approached an extremely wealthy part of the plate. He understood now what Vincent had said about the cop’s inability to keep his mouth shut, and he ground his teeth at the flippant way the man spoke of Vincent’s late wife. He would not acknowledge such disrespect. Instead he said, “He will never come to you, Mr. Highwind. If you are certain that you wish to pursue this, then you will have to go to him. But I give you a fair warning, because you appear genuine in your intentions. If you use him, hurt him…I will rip out your heart myself.”
“I hope you will. I’ll deserve it if I ever hurt ‘im.” He couldn’t be bothered now to look around, but if had, he would have been awed at the difference between this place and his own. He had only come near this area once, and he had not stayed long. “I don’t ever know what the right thing t’do is when it comes t’him, but I c’n assure ya that my intentions are genuine. But I know better’n any other man that intentions ain’t worth a damn in the end. One more question, though. If you thought I c’d make ‘im happy, would ya help me? Y’said yerself I don’t know nothin’ about ‘im, an’ that’s exactly right. There’s some things don’t come up in every conversation, an’ I might need you t’fill in th’blanks sometimes.”
Tseng pulled up in front of the largest apartment building, put the car in part and got out to walk around and open the door for the cop. When Highwind was standing, Tseng appraised him silently, unblinking. “We shall see, sir.” He said, then turned and indicated the cop was to go on alone. “At the end of the lobby you will find a bank of elevators, the one furthest to the right as you face them, is his. He owns the entire top floor, and he is expecting you.”
Title: Midgar Burning
Authors: silence_laughs and calvi_sama
Pairing: Cid x Vincent
Rating: NC-17 (eventually), most certainly R
Disclaimer: We do not in any way own, nor profit from, the characters and/or locations of FFVII, that would all be Square Enix. Also any other references to persons or products mentioned herein are purely coincidental *coughs*
Warnings: Adult themes, blood, some violence, language, kidnapping, torture, mentions of abuse, murder, and above all else...yaoi, the 'inappropriate to minors' kind, the 'makes us sit up past our bedtimes reading' kind, 'cause lets face it folks, it just wouldn't be the same without it! >:3
Summary: Even as Cid fights to show Vincent it’s okay to love again, Vincent’s enemies are moving in. Can Cid secure a place in Vincent’s heart before their world falls apart?
A/N: Two things folks: 1) This is an RP and 2) This fic is AU. The usual players here: silence = Cid, and all in Cid's world, and yours truly = Vincent, and all in Vin's world. Easiest way to say it. ^^ This fic is a 'novel'-form piece (ie multi-chapter) that is darker than what we normally write, and out of our comfort zone in the fact that we normally prefer to stick to canon-type stuff. But I got the idea from ani_mama's artwork (more specifically this picture), persuaded silence to "go along with it", and it's been going 'full steam ahead' since then, and quite grown on us. We hope you all like it!
Chapter 12
Cid had just finished combing his hair -and really, it looked better when he just left it alone- when the doorbell rang. Thrilled all over again at the prospect of having a working doorbell, Cid hurried to open the door for Tseng. “Hey! You wanna come in fer a while, or we ready t’go? An’ speakin’ o’ that, where are we goin’? You gonna have dinner with us?” Before Tseng could answer, Cid’s eyes widened as he realized that he had almost forgotten the mako. He tipped both tubes carefully into the inside pocket of his jacket and returned to the doorway. “Sorry. Almost fergot why I was goin’, is all.”
Tseng blinked at Highwind’s enthusiasm and rapid-fire questions. He was beginning to see how Vincent could get a headache from this man. He bowed slightly and said, holding his arm out for Cid to precede him. “I am ready to leave if you are, sir. And no, I shall not be joining you for ‘dinner’ as this arrangement was made between you and Mr. Valentine. Now, shall we?”
“S’too bad. You ought to sometime.” Cid stepped past Tseng, double-checking the lights and his keys, and waited for Tseng to pass him again to make sure the door was locked. He followed Tseng to the sedan, where he clambered clumsily into the same seat he always occupied. “Big guy ain't here t’day, huh? He all right?”
Tseng grunted and after shutting the door after the cop, walked around to the driver’s seat, got in, checked the traffic, and pulled away from the curb. “He is well, sir.”
“Good. And you?” Staring at his idly tapping feet, Cid found himself once again wondering how Tseng could intimidate him so easily while still making him feel like everything would end well.
Tseng sighed inaudibly, checked traffic again and pulled out into the heavier flow of vehicles. “I am doing well, sir.”
“Glad t’hear it.” And now to the real point of conversation. “Is Vincent- Mr. Valentine, I mean, is ‘e still upset with me? I c’n see as how ‘e would be, but…”
“I’m sure I do not know what you mean, sir.” Tseng replied guardedly, eyeing the cop in the rearview mirror.
“Ain’t no need t’act like that. I know he tells you most everything, an’ I know you read ‘im better’n anyone. He wouldn’t hafta say it for ya t’know about it,” Cid grumped, a bit put out that no one was ever as honest with him as he was with them. He met Tseng’s reflection’s eyes and held them, asking seriously, “You ain’t bringin’ me t’be killed are ya?”
“No, sir.” Tseng replied with a nearly imperceptible quirking of the lips. “You may rest easy in that regard.”
“’kay,” Cid said uneasily, wanting to believe but not quite able to. After a few moments of complete silence, Cid started again. “Hey, uh, Mr. …or, uh…aw, hell, there ain’t nobody else in th’car. You know who I’m talkin’ to.” Cid shifted uncomfortably in his seat again, knowing that if anyone would understand his growing feelings for Vincent, it would be Tseng. He couldn’t quite figure out, though, how much he wanted to say, if anything.
“Yes, Mr. Highwind?” Tseng said patiently, switching lanes again, the oncoming headlights and building lights flashing across their faces.
“Whaddaya s’pose he…d’ya think he hates me?” Cid asked quietly, anxiously anticipating the answer. He almost hoped for an affirmative so he could lay this all to rest and just focus on what needed to be done, but he quickly regretted the thought.
Tseng carefully considered the question and his subsequent answer. Finally he said carefully. “I do not believe he hates you, sir. Rather I believe he does not know what to make of you.”
Cid nodded once slowly, then twice more, quickly. “How do I make ‘im see that I’m not gonna- shit, you remember. I promised you, an’ I’m gonna hold to it, but he don’t believe me. How do I make ‘im understand?” he asked, questions directed more to himself than to Tseng. “An’ I…well, I don’t hate him,” he finished quietly, head hanging and a small smile on his face.
“The only answer I have for you is time, Mr. Highwind.” Tseng said softly, merging with another lane of traffic. Then he said, “Nothing in our world is free. You must understand. If Vincent trusted everyone like you wish him to trust you so blindly, then he would not be alive.” There was an uneasy silence before he finished with, “My advice to you, sir, is to be up front with him. If you require something from him, then inform him of it.”
“I don’t ‘require’ anything,” Cid said softly, looking back up. “I just wish he didn’t hafta hurt so much. It…I wish …well, wishin’ never does a fella any good. He’s gotta go out an’ get what ‘e wants, right? Only what I want is somethin’ y’can’t just take.” The last part was mumbled; he considered the words carefully as if hearing and understanding them for the first time. “Do you think there’s a chance he could ever come t’care about me? Not as a business asset or a favorite client, but more like the way he cares ‘bout you?” If there ain’t, I’ll give up on it now. …Can I give up on it? On him? I don’t think I can.
Tseng’s eyes shot up to look at Cid’s face in the rearview mirror again. Even in the dark car he could tell that the man’s face was red. So that’s it, Tseng thought. “You wish his friendship then?” he asked carefully.
“I do,” Cid answered, meticulously thinking over the rest before he said it, “an’ more than that if th’time ever comes that he’s willin’ t’give it. But I could never…never, ever just take his body. He’s too good fer that, an’ I’m too far gone. I don’t know if you c’n understand. I respect him, and I’ve grown t’care about ‘im a lot, an’…the man he hides is a man I could love fer the rest o’ my life, if he’d only let me. Is it possible t’gain that much trust from him?”
A cold knot formed in Tseng’s belly at the cop’s words. “It is not my place to tell you what Vincent feels or is capable of or will allow himself to feel. He fiercely protects the man you think you know, Mr. Highwind. I have known him the better part of twenty years, and I do not think I know him in the sense that you are referring, he guards himself that well.” Tseng fell quiet, alarmed at what Highwind was wanting. “There was only one other who held his heart in such a manner that you are seeking now. What you do is your business, but I want you to think very carefully about what you are asking of him.”
“I’m not askin’ anything of ‘im. Dontcha see? I never will. He’ll hafta come t’me. An’ even if he never sees, or never responds, I’ll go on lovin’ ‘im the way I’m afraid I’m startin’ to already.” Even though the response had not been as favorable as Cid had hoped, he did not wish that he had not spoken. Tseng would protect Vincent to the very end, he knew, and if he were to have any hope of getting closer to Vincent, he would have to be on good terms with Tseng. “The other…Lucrecia?” He knew he had no right to ask, especially since he already knew the answer -or was fairly certain he did- but he wanted to hear it confirmed. “I’m nothin’ like her, am I?” he asked flatly.
“Oh, but you are, Mr. Highwind.” Tseng said ominously, addressing the first of the cop’s questions. “You’re asking for far more from him than just his body. You’re asking for the very way to utterly destroy him.” He signaled and began to slow as he approached an extremely wealthy part of the plate. He understood now what Vincent had said about the cop’s inability to keep his mouth shut, and he ground his teeth at the flippant way the man spoke of Vincent’s late wife. He would not acknowledge such disrespect. Instead he said, “He will never come to you, Mr. Highwind. If you are certain that you wish to pursue this, then you will have to go to him. But I give you a fair warning, because you appear genuine in your intentions. If you use him, hurt him…I will rip out your heart myself.”
“I hope you will. I’ll deserve it if I ever hurt ‘im.” He couldn’t be bothered now to look around, but if had, he would have been awed at the difference between this place and his own. He had only come near this area once, and he had not stayed long. “I don’t ever know what the right thing t’do is when it comes t’him, but I c’n assure ya that my intentions are genuine. But I know better’n any other man that intentions ain’t worth a damn in the end. One more question, though. If you thought I c’d make ‘im happy, would ya help me? Y’said yerself I don’t know nothin’ about ‘im, an’ that’s exactly right. There’s some things don’t come up in every conversation, an’ I might need you t’fill in th’blanks sometimes.”
Tseng pulled up in front of the largest apartment building, put the car in part and got out to walk around and open the door for the cop. When Highwind was standing, Tseng appraised him silently, unblinking. “We shall see, sir.” He said, then turned and indicated the cop was to go on alone. “At the end of the lobby you will find a bank of elevators, the one furthest to the right as you face them, is his. He owns the entire top floor, and he is expecting you.”