He's Having A Nightmare

He’s Having A Nightmare – Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still don’t own it. If I did, we’d see Vincent in a lot less clothing. ^^;

WARNINGS: Herein lays the yaoi. It’s…more or less non-con. Sort of dubious consent. Chaos x Vincent, vague undertones (or is it overtones?) of Valewind. Don’t like, go ‘way.

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They spoke of Sephiroth to the man. It was difficult to convince him to join the party, but eventually, after many tries, he relented.

His name was Vincent. An ex-turk, a human experiment. He had asked if any of those who had found him knew of Lucrecia, but none had even heard of her. He rarely spoke, and those rare times when he did, it was usually only a small utterance of ‘atoning for past sins’ or ‘my punishment’. Occasionally, he would only softly say Lucrecia’s name, closing his eyes and saying no more the rest of the day.

When staying at inns during travels, he was typically paired with Red XIII. The great cat understood Vincent’s need for solitude, and when the man would talk to his sins or his punishment, Red XIII would simply nod his head, and when Vincent fell silent, he would linger for a few moments, providing companionship he could sense the gunman needed.

Both tended to turn in rather early, and nearly every time the two creatures spent the night in the same room, Red XIII would exit just a few hours shy of dawn, usually finding someone still awake or already awakened. When he was questioned, he would always say the same thing.

“Vincent is…having a nightmare.” No further information was volunteered, and no one ever asked Red XIII for an explanation, or Vincent for details when he awoke. Red XIII would simply find a comfortable couch or spot of floor to lie on, and stay there for the remainder of the night.

The ex-turk was an incredible thing to behold. A beautiful and shy man, who could transform seemingly at will into horrible beasts; or into a winged demon that resembled Vincent himself very closely.

Tifa was brave at one point, asking the demon’s name. Vincent had glanced over at her, before lowering his eyes, then letting them fall closed.

“…It is called Chaos.”

Watching him transform into these monsters was fascinating. The pain that flashed over his features as the summoned demon emerged, before the blinding light that came as his body twisted to become whatever beast he called forth. He was left exhausted and very quiet after he returned to normal. He moved carefully, as though still in great pain; though it never showed on his face. He would retreat to his room, if one was available. Otherwise, he simply disappeared.

No one ever figured out where exactly he went.

It was at an inn one night that Cid first began to understand the depths of pain the man had gone through, and still suffered. Red XIII was away gathering supplies with Yuffie, and they had opted to stay the night in the neighboring city, and complete their shopping in the morning. Vincent and Cid had been chosen to share a room. They were an odd couple, indeed.

The man had transformed into Chaos that night. And as usual, Vincent had disappeared after that, hiding away in his room and hoping to be left alone. He had seemed…particularly drained by their battle, the pain for once evident on his face as he made his way back to the inn. Cid, after much prodding from Cloud, went to go make sure the gunman was alright.

He walked into their shared room, the lights were out, no one was lying in bed. Vincent’s red cloak lay over the back of one of the chairs, along with his belted leather shirt and glove folded into a neat pile. His boots and armor sat beside the chair. Cid blinked. He hadn’t thought the man ever took his clothing off, but thinking on it, that seemed absurd. Of course Vincent changed clothing at night. He looked over to the bathroom that adjoined the small room. He could see a faint light coming from under the door.

He went and knocked…no answer. He knocked harder, calling Vincent’s name. Still getting no response, he opened the door, fearing the gunman may have passed out…or worse. You never knew with a man who had four demons living inside his head.

“Hey, Vincent…you ok in ther-……”

He stopped dead in his tracks.

Vincent had obviously just gotten out of the shower. He was wearing nothing but a white towel, which frighteningly enough nearly matched the tone of his skin. His long black hair had been plaited into a braid which Vincent had swept over his left shoulder.

Cid’s eyes almost immediately fell onto the gunner’s back. He was absolutely covered in scars. Several looked to be jagged, as though he had been scratched or clawed. Others were more clinical and clean, with suture marks on either side of the lines. He had an odd looking burn mark along his lower back that obviously extended over onto his side. It looked as though whatever had gotten onto him had eaten his skin away.

Two wounds stood out amongst them all. They were fresh, and deep enough that Cid could see Vincent’s bone amidst the blood seeping down his back, standing out in stark contrast to the man’s skin. It looked as though something had burst through his back, tearing skin and muscle and ligaments…whatever was in its path.

It dawned on him. Chaos. The great demon had wings. No wonder Vincent was in such pain when he changed. He wondered…what else happened to him when the demons emerged.

Vincent whirled around, his clawed hand clutching at the towel to protect his modesty. Cid’s couldn’t help himself, his eyes raked over the man’s body, taking in the same deep, jagged scarring on his legs, his stomach, the scar from the bullet wound on his chest. He had medical incision lines with suture marks, and some without. His good arm was covered in marks; some clearly scars from repetitive blood draws and injections. He had a barcode tattooed on his left shoulder. He reached the man’s face, noticing a small scar on his neck directly over the artery. He looked up at Vincent’s face. The man was looking away intently, refusing to meet the pilot’s eyes. Had Cid not known any better, he would have sworn there was a tear making its way down the man’s pale cheek.

“Shit. I-I’m sorry.” Cid immediately backed out of the door, shutting it behind him. He pressed his back against the door, his hand running through his hair in shock.

It was clear why Vincent was so quiet, so skittish at times. Whatever had happened to him to give him those scars…it was a miracle Vincent was even functioning. And those deep slashes where Chaos’ wings had burst forth…

He walked over and sat on the bed, waiting for Vincent to come out.

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Vincent stayed in the bathroom in shock for a few moments, still clutching his towel. He took a shaky breath…he was sure the pilot had been horrified by the way he looked. He was truly a monster. All the evidence of his experimentation, the slashes and cuts from Hojo. The scars Chaos made. Evidence of the punishment for his sins.

His claw, as much as he tried to keep it hidden, was also in plain view for Cid to see. He heard his demons laugh at him, a sting of pain flashing through his back as Chaos stirred. He raised his human hand, wiping the single tear that had fallen off his cheek, wiping away the unshed tears left in his eyes.

He finally came out, his pants back on, towel wrapped around his shoulders. Cid sat up immediately, looking at the gunner.

“Are you alright?” He looked worried. The emotion confused Vincent. By all rights, Cid shouldn’t even still be sitting here. He should be out, telling the others how hideous he really was under all that leather.

Vincent looked down. “I’m…fine.”

“Your back…”

“It happens every time Chaos emerges. I will be healed by morning.” He sat down on his bed, his back facing Cid; the towel wrapped securely around him.

Cid sat there for a moment, staring at Vincent in disbelief. “I dunno, Vince…those are pretty bad slashes ya got there…”

Vincent sighed softly, dulling any further protests from Cid. There was an oddly sad tone in his voice. “…please, do not…do not trouble yourself.”

Vincent lay down, wincing slightly as the wounds stretched a bit. He maneuvered himself onto his stomach, the long braid he had put his hair into falling over one shoulder. His softly glowing red eyes stared at the floor.

“Alright, Vin. But god help you if I wake up tomorrow morning and you’re laying there dead.” He shook his head, staring at the man a moment longer, then stood and walked out of the room.

Hn. Death. A luxury Vincent would never experience. Another lovely side effect from Hojo’s experiments, another punishment for his sins. Immortality.

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Cid crept back into the room about 3 hours later. He was hoping Vincent was asleep. The gunner was laying face down in bed, eyes closed.

Even if the man wasn’t asleep, he was certainly pretending. The braid had worked its way out of Vincent’s dark hair, the long strands fanning out on the pillow around him.

Cid stripped off his jacket, pants, and shoes. He walked to the bathroom, showered himself, and re-dressed in clean clothes before laying down to sleep.

He spent a few moments just lying on his side, looking over at Vincent. He could vaguely see one of the wounds on his back, still lightly seeping blood. His stomach tightened slightly. Something wasn’t right.

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Cid jolted awake several hours later, just an hour or two short of dawn. The hair on the back of his neck rose. The feeling he had before he went to sleep had worsened. There was something horribly wrong.

He looked around, then over at Vincent. The man was lying down, in the same position he had been, with one difference.

His claw was digging into the mattress. Cid could barely make out the man’s face, pain etched lightly over his features. The brunet was biting his lip, his entire body trembling ever so slightly. He felt compelled to go to Vincent, make sure he was alright; but something stronger stopped him from moving. He watched a moment longer, when something caught his eye.

The wounds on Vincent’s back were closing.

An odd purplish mist was seeping from the wounds; Vincent’s claw piercing into the mattress deeper still. He watched as Vincent bit his lip until he drew blood, a soft noise of pain slipping from the gunner’s lips. The cuts began to close themselves, the skin stretching and knitting itself back together until only two jagged scars remained. The blood that had seeped from his wounds now dripped source-less from his back, staining the sheets underneath him.

The mist suddenly began to rise from Vincent’s entire body, swirling in the air above him slowly. Cid’s eyes trailed from the mist, back to Vincent’s face. His eyes were tightly closed, his body shook very slightly. He still bit his lip, a light trickle of blood dripping from the wound. The mist was taking shape now, and in a few minutes time, had come together in a definitive form.

Chaos. With one distinct difference.

Every time Chaos emerged, he looked absolutely wild, hair spiked around his head, teeth bared and snarling, muscles straining. This version of Chaos resembled Vincent even more closely, his hair lying down around his shoulders, streaked with red. His eyes still glowed with the same eerie yellow light, his pale skin streaked with black marks. Though he wasn’t snarling, he didn’t look ready to pounce. He stood there, calmly, leering down at Vincent. And rather than wearing his host’s leathers, the demon stood at the foot of the bed completely nude.

Cid blinked. He blinked again. Chaos was still standing there. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. The demon noticed him looking, catching his eyes and smirking. Cid found himself paralyzed. He could only watch as the demon slipped onto the bed next to Vincent.

Vincent cringed slightly, flinching away from the demon as it touched his face. Chaos leaned over, pressing his body against Vincent’s back, his long tongue extending and licking along Vincent’s ear. He ran his clawed hand down Vincent’s side, lightly digging in his nails, the gunner stiffening slightly in pain, his breathing becoming heavy.

Cid watched in amazement as Vincent began to bleed ever so slightly. Chaos wasn’t really there…was he?

The demon suddenly flipped Vincent onto his back, straddling his hips and holding down the man’s wrists. Vincent looked up, wide-eyed at the demon, pulling lightly at the hold on his wrists. He seemed to know that struggling was futile. Chaos drew both of Vincent’s hands above his head, using one of his large, clawed hands to pin his hands there.

His free hand began to roam the gunman’s body. Chaos ran his hand over Vincent’s ribs, down his stomach, pausing to run his fingertips along the waistband of the man’s low-slung pants. He leaned down, speaking into Vincent’s ear so softly Cid couldn’t make out what was said. The gunner looked up at Chaos, meeting the demon’s eyes for a moment, before looking back down, lifting his hips off the bed.

Chaos carefully unhooked the belts and the zipper on the leather waistband, sliding the pants over the man’s smooth hips, revealing more scars. The pilot couldn’t help but notice that Vincent wore no underwear. The demon slid the pants completely off, discarding them near the chair. He trailed his long claws up the inside of Vincent’s thigh, over another barcode Cid hadn’t been able to see before. Vincent shifted slightly, weather in discomfort of pleasure, the pilot couldn’t tell.

The demon leaned down again, speaking again into the man’s ear. This time, Cid could hear the low demonic tone of Chaos’ voice. He vaguely heard the word “punishment” nearly growled into the gunner’s ear. Vincent simply took a deep, shaky breath, almost imperceptibly nodding his head. The demon sat up, grinning sadistically down at the man, who was now looking intently away. Vincent had the look of a man resigned to his fate.

Chaos straddled Vincent’s hips, still securely holding his hands above his head. He used his free hand to suddenly slash at the pale flesh over Vincent’s ribs. He leaned down quickly, pressing his lips to Vincent’s, swallowing the pained cry that followed. He continued to kiss the man, tongue thrust into Vincent’s mouth, dragging his nails over the ex-turk’s chest. He pulled away, looking down at his host, who lay with his eyes tightly closed, biting his lip in pain.

Chaos let Vincent’s hands go in favor of turning him on his stomach. Vincent stifled a soft cry as he felt his new cuts scrape against the sheets. Chaos immediately dug his nails into Vincent’s upper back, dragging them down to his hips. Vincent again muffled a soft cry of pain. Chaos leaned over, licking a bit of the blood off his back, reaching his shoulder and biting down, hard, his fangs sinking into the soft flesh. Chaos clamped his hand over Vincent’s mouth, completely muffling the shocked and pained scream that followed. He pressed two of his fingers into the gunner’s mouth.

Vincent seemed to know what to do. He began to run his tongue along the digits, slicking them. Cid found himself fighting feelings of arousal. What kind of sick person gets off on their teammate being raped by a demon? The demon himself was obviously enjoying Vincent’s treatment, releasing his shoulder, licking the blood that spilled from the mark.

The demon whispered in Vincent’s ear again. The remark made Vincent gasp softly, his eyes opening. He looked over his bloody shoulder, into Chaos’ eyes. The demon narrowed his eyes, silently warning Vincent against resisting. Vincent looked away, defeated. The demon moved off of him, coming to rest with his back against the headboard.

Cid’s eyes widened as Vincent crawled in between the demon’s legs. He could just make out the demon’s erection in the dim light, watching as Vincent lowered his head, beginning to lick at the straining flesh. He took the entire length in until he nudged the soft dark curls at the base of the demon’s erection. Cid was amazed as he heard the low, growling moan from the demon. Vincent’s eyes had filled with tears, in the dim light; Cid could see them begin to make their way down the gunman’s pale cheeks.

It wasn’t long before Chaos grabbed a handful of the long black hair, pulling Vincent off of him, throwing him to one side. He pushed the man’s chest to the mattress, pulling his hips up, smirking as Vincent buried his face in the pillows, shaking slightly. He positioned himself, pushing into him with a single harsh thrust. Vincent tensed, crying out into the pillow below him.

Cid felt his stomach clench. He was paralyzed, unsure if it was his own fear; or if Chaos had done something to keep him from moving. Perhaps it was simply out of respect to Vincent, he had a feeling the man would rather suffer a rape than know someone had witnessed him being helpless at the hands of his own demon.

The demon thrust harshly into his host, reveling in the soft cries and sobs of pain and deep-seated emotional torment. He reached down, wrapping an arm around Vincent’s chest, pulling him up until both figures were kneeling, Vincent’s back to Chaos’ chest.

Cid went wide-eyed. Vincent was sporting a large erection of his own, despite his tears and struggles. Chaos reached around, taking Vincent into his hand, lightly stroking. Vincent allowed his head to fall back onto the demon’s shoulder, his human hand coming to rest back on the demon’s thigh, his clawed hand going to tangle into Chaos’ hair.

The demon spoke to Vincent again, smirking at his choked moans. This time, Cid faintly made out the word “Lucrecia”. It seemed to distress Vincent; he turned his head into the demon’s shoulder, closing his eyes in guilt.

The harsh thrusting continued for a while, Vincent and Chaos’ quiet moans filling the room. A low, choked moan was ripped from Vincent as he came, followed by a somewhat pained cry as he felt the demon release inside his torn passage. Vincent hung his head, tears running down his cheeks. This was yet another sin, enjoying his rape as he always did, betraying Lucrecia and her memory.

The demon pulled away from Vincent, watching the man lay down shakily, coming to rest on his back, looking up at the demon. The demon leaned down, pressing his lips to Vincent’s. Vincent’s face was still etched with pain, his red eyes closing as Chaos kissed him. When the demon pulled away, he grinned down at his host, lightly running his fingers through Vincent’s hair, trailing them down his cheek. Vincent looked down, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering, turning onto his side as Chaos looked over and met eyes with Cid once again. Purple mist began to rise from the demon’s body, and before long he had completely dematerialized back into mist, fading away.

Vincent looked over at Cid, tears still running down his cheeks, his eyes widening as he saw the pilot was awake. They looked at one another for a moment, shocked blue eyes meeting tearful red. Vincent stared for a moment, then looked away, carefully laying back down and pulling the thin covers around himself, his now healed back to Cid.

Cid watched him tremble for a few moments, before finding he could move again. Vincent curled up slightly as he heard Cid stand. The pilot dressed himself in his usual clothes, trying not to seem like he was in a hurry, though he really wanted nothing more than to get away from Vincent at that moment. He didn’t like the feelings that had been stirred inside him as he watched his teammate be raped.

He battled a desire to comfort Vincent, something odd he never felt. Cid wasn’t exactly the ‘comforting’ type, not the kind of guy who chased away a lover’s nightmares. He battled a disturbing sense of arousal. The pilot wasn’t into guys. He wasn’t. Really. He battled a horrible desire to be the one hurting and fucking Vincent himself, to own and dominate the strong gunner.

It just wasn’t right.

He left the room, quietly closing it tightly behind him. Vincent lay curled up, unmoving. Chaos and the other demons were quiet in his mind. He let loose one final soft cry as the wounds Chaos had made closed themselves, finally allowing himself to relax into the sheets. He could feel Chaos’ release dripping from him, running down his thigh. The remaining blood dripped over his skin, staining the sheets.

He pulled the covers over himself, shivering slightly in the cold of the morning. He closed his eyes, figuring he would try to get what sleep he could, before the party left without him.

He wondered if Cid would tell the others. Red XIII had witnessed similar events each time they stayed with one another, and the cat had never said a word. When he would wake to the sound of Chaos dominating Vincent, he would simply get out of bed, and leave the room; returning the following night.

He sighed softly, guilt eating him from the inside out. He felt his demons start to stir again as his feelings of deserving punishment began to resurface. He shouldn’t enjoy the feel of Chaos’ hands on his skin, the burning pain as the demon’s nails ripped his skin.

He shifted slightly, feeling Chaos smirking at him. The demon would be ready and all to happy to provide punishment, whenever he ‘deserved’ it.

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Cid walked out into the main room of the inn. He was met with the exhausted-looking forms of Yuffie and Red XIII, who had come back early as a result of spending more gil then intended, along with Could and Tifa who were early risers. Red XIII looked up at Cid, tilting his head.

Cid looked back at the cat, then down at the floor.


“…Vincent’s havin’ a nightmare.”

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It’s an odd dynamic between Vincent and Chaos, in my mind. Chaos with his desire to be a demon, to hurt and punish; but also a deep-seated desire to…I’m not sure that love is the right word. ‘Care for’ his host.

Hopefully the plot bunnies will leave my ankles alone now. Their little nibbles hurt!