Resurfacing

Vincent sighed, relaxing down onto his bed. He was tired, and he hadn’t even done anything that day. Well, except STRESS.

After getting Cloud to say at least one good thing about his new look (mostly due to threatening looks and dire warnings, unsurprisingly), Cid had then commenced to call Tifa, Barett, and anyone else from the group that was nearby to look at their comrade’s new “style”. Tifa, not knowing it was Vincent at first, had outwardly called him “a hot piece of ass” before she realized who it was, clapping hands to her mouth as she blushed and apologized furiously, trying to ignore the irate look Cloud shot her. Barett had simply stated, new clothes or not,Vincent was still the same old vampire to him. Out of everything said, it was the one comment Vincent actually accepted. It was one of the many things he had learned to respect about the dark skinned man; sugar coating things was not his forte.

For the rest of the day after that he’d followed Cid from store to store, watching the pilot haggle on prices, examine minute things with a great eye to detail, laugh, joke, and mericfully keep Vincent out of any and all conversations.  Vincent for his part ignored stares he was getting from people as he followed wordlessly. It felt as if though he had been shoved out of his comfortable shadows and into a bright, well lit world under a microscope populated by nosey scientists. It was with a thankful heart that Shera, reappearing later in the day, had deemed it necessary to finally returned to the house. After stowing (stowing, in the sense that every piece of clothing was hung up and arranged) his new clothes in the closet, he felt the drain on his energy the day had had on him. Between everything, it was enough to drive a less than patient man (Cid, for example) up the wall. Vincent Valentine, though, was a patient man. Now, before dinner, he was simply happy to lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. ‘Some day, Chaos.'

It took him a minute to realize what he had done- talked to the demon that was no longer there. What was worse was he had expected an answer in return. He sighed before rolling over to stare at the wall.  It was true; for the thirty or more years he had been trapped under ShinRa mansion, and even the five after with Avalance and the WRO, the demon was a constant companion in his otherwise companionless life. He was, if Vincent was being honest with himself, even a kind of comfort in the angry and rage filled way Chaos was.  But that mean he actually missed the demon? His  thoughts, steadily growing darker in the likewise growing darker room, were interrupted as someone knocked at the door, opening it without any kind of permission or warning. Cid's familiar blond head looked in. “Hey Vince, you okay buddy?”

Vincent rolled over, looking up at Cid as the man walked into the room. “I suppose. I’m just tired.”

“Yeah,” Cid smiled. “Some day huh?”

Vincent nodded, not lost on the irony  that was  just what he had said to the no longer present demon. “Yes, I suppose.” He sat up and allowed Cid to sit down on the edge of the bed, looking up at him.

“Thought it was funny as hell what Tifa said. Then when she'd figured out it was you an’ started acting like a girl caught with her hands up ‘er skirt!, I about lost it."

“Honestly, I found it quite disturbing."

“Damn, not one for compliments much, are ya?” Cid lifted an eyebrow. Personally, he thought a girl like Tifa saying something like that to ANY man would be incentive enough to have some small amount of pride. In all honesty, though, pride was not one on the list of Vincent's comodities.

“I’m just not used to them anymore.”  Vincent was always surprised how easily speaking with the pilot came to him when he refused to speak to anyone else, and was not about to push the man away. He figured Cid was the closest thing to a “confidant” he would ever have.

 

"'Anymore'? Meaning you used to get em all the time?"

"Perhaps not all the time. Back when I was younger, or a Turk. They meant something then. Now, they are everything but meaningful."

"How the hell do you figure that?" A small frown had creased Cid's forehead.

"Highwind. How long have you known me?"

"Five years."

"And in five years, how much about me has changed?"

Cid didn't answer at first, merely taking his time to look over and examine the man beside him. How much about Vince had changed? Cid did a mental checklist in his mind. Height? Still taller than himself, though wasn't everybody. Vampire white skin? Check. Creepily but also amazingly confusing red eyes? Check. Voice that was a cross between a bedroom husk and a threat to end your life? Double check. The red cloak and black leather cat suit was gone, to be sure, but Vince was Vince. "Not a dam thing."

"Exactly. -Nothing-. And nothing will ever change. In two years, ten years, a hundred years this," he gestured to his face, "will remain unchanging. Hojo assured me of that. The mako, the black blood in my veins assures me of that everyday. Soon, more than sixty years I will have been on this earth. After sixty years, comments, compliments or remarks about something I have no control over start to mean nothing." His eyes fixed on the attentive and intense blue ones that stared back at him. "You have no idea how much I envy you."

Cid gave a loud and derisive snort. "Me? Why the hell would -you- ever envy -me-?" 

"Because you can change, Highwind. Your skin tans. Your hair grows and falls out. Your body moves and shifts and expands, it builds muscle, it stores fat. Your voice, your laugh, everything about you, is constantly moving and shifting. You're full of so much -life-, it hurts sometimes to..." He cut off his own sentence. Confidant Cid might be, but there were certain things Vincent wasn't willing to share with -anyone-. "I know you constantly complain about getting old, and though I know you have rights to, I envy that you can. I will never get the liberty of growing out of what I am." He looked away from those intense blue eyes, colored so much like the sky, closing his own weary blood red ones."Your life is so...beautiful."

The comment Cid had been forming when Vincent had started mentioning 'storing fat' and 'expandable body' died before it even had a chance to come out. He kept watch on that face, still so weary and tired, that kept itself away from him. He still had things to say, though now they were measured, thought out. "Ya know Vince, most people would kill to get a chance to never age. Hell, if I had a chance to stay twenty-seven for the rest of my life I'd have jumped at the chance."

"Yes, but would you have paid the -price-?"

"I don't know that answer. I hear about all the stuff you went through, and I don't see myself ever being able t' handle it like ya did. The Turks, ShinRA, Hojo...-her-." He made sure not to mention Lucrecia's name. "And you're still here. Ya may not be like me n' the others but Vince, you're still -alive-. Yer still aging. And if you want to speak of beauty ya should look in a mirror more often." The red eyes opened and looked at him, confused. "I'm serious. You're were always too busy wallowing in what life gave ya t' ever notice anything else around ya, much less anyone -else- around ya. You talk about how I have so much life it hurts you have no idea how incredible you are it hurts!"

"Amuse me, Highwind, and elaborate."

"Vince..." he started, then paused, seeming to try to think of the right way to say something. "Don't ever tell anyone I told ya this but, you...are the most drop dead gorgeous man I have ever, -ever-, -EVER- seen! No seriously, ya are so stop lookin' at me like that!  I mean, you wanna talk about ENVY? You -inspire- Envy! Hell, if I could look half as good as you do on a BAD day I'd be set!"

"You don't mean that."

"I mean every -damn- word of it! I mean, take a look at you and then take a look at ME! There ain't no comparison!" He shot Vincent a disgusted look, shaking his head. "You...you just have no idea. While you were the 'tall dark and silent' one I was the token 'old man'!"

There was a pause of several minutes, neither men speaking to each other. Cid scowled down at the ground, Vincent kept his eyes trained on the pilot. It seemed neither one had much else to say when Cid stood up and made his way to the door, but Vincent's voice, calm and commanding, interrupted him,. "Cid."

He stopped, hand on the door knob. It wasn't the tone of voice that had caught and stopped him, but the -word-. For the first time in a long time, Vincent had said, not 'Highwind', but his name. He looked back at the gunman, brows still slightly knit. "What?"

Vincent stood, walking over to place a hand on the pilot's shoulder. The touch was light and cool against the fabric. "I -do- look at you. Out of everyone else, I -always- looked at you, and you were never 'the token old man'. To myself, and to everyone else, you were, and are, a pillar. You helped out us, you kept us going, sometimes with words, or laughter or threats, but you always made us move and think. You carted us around the world in a ship you MADE. -You- MADE. That says a lot."

"Amuse me Valentine. Elaborate." 

Vincent chose to ignore the sarcastic way Cid handed his own words back to him. "You're smart. You're intelligent. You can think on your feet, you can move faster than many, many a man younger than you. You have always had the talents that would have made you a wonderful Turk, leadership and  confidence among them. When you want to be you're also very charming. And, you're the only person I have ever known with eyes the exact color of the sky, and that has to count for something." He smiled just slightly as Cid let out a reluctant chuckle. "If you could see yourself in the eyes of others, Highwind, you would never have to make another comparison to anyone else again. AND-" his eyes locked on those sky blue ones as they looked at him, "you could never be able to call yourself anything -but- beautiful."

The two men stayed locked on each other's faces for a while, until Shera's voice came up the stairs. "Cid, Vincent! Dinner's getting cold!"

Vincent sighed, muttering to himself as he turned from Cid and proceeded out of the door. "If it's bacon, I might just lose it."

Cid smiled, following Vincent down the stairs. It was strange that when he was the one working to cheer Vincent up, it was Vincent that was doing the cheering. But hell, if a man like Vincent Valentine called you beautiful, you didn't have the right to feel down.~~~~~