Resurfacing

"Cid, would you like some more mashed potatoes?"

A shrug.

"Any more gravy?"

Shake of the head.

Shera sighed and sat down the gravy bowl in front of him anyway, and took a seat as she surveyed her husband. He had been silent the whole rest of the day, ever since Vincent took him outside to talk about SOMETHING important and came back without him ten minutes later. The tall gunman had looked equally upset about something, but he had lingered in the living room before he headed to his bedroom upstairs. Shera had watched him go, wondering vaguely were Cid was before she got her answer.

He'd stumbeled in half an hour later, limping slightly and looking, for a word, miserable. His eyes were red like she'd never seen them before, his face wet, and he was shivering like he'd just got done running naked through a blizzard. She'd jumped up when she saw him stumble in, concern etched on her face. "Cid! What on Earth happened, are you alright?"

Cid nodded, trying to clear his throat as he wipped his face dry for the umpteenth time. "Yeah ah just..." he paused and tried to get the frog out of his throat. No way he was going to tell Shera he'd just been crying like a school girl who was just broken up with. "Ah just twisted my ankle real bad in the hanger...Junior must've forgot to put away that peice of sheet metal and I kinda stumbled into it...fell on my ass an' hurt my ankle. Hurt like a bitch."

Shera sighed with the shake of her head. "You need to be more careful next time, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah,,ah'ma...I'm gonna go put it one some ice, alright?"

"Why don't you just borrow Vincent's Cure Mate-"

"NO." The word came snapping out, his eyebrows instantly narrowing as a more violent shiver ran through him. "No...I'll just ice it." Cid limped to the kitchen, and Shera could hear him pull one of the many ice packs they had out of the freezer.

She'd expected at least some kind of change in mood as the day progressed and they all sat down to dinner. Now he just looked more miserable than ever. Nothing would get him to talking, not even things she knew would earn a scream or two, and he sat there all night just staring at his plate. That was strange thing number three- Cid usually had a voracious appetite. She glanced at Vincent at the other end of the table. The gunman's silence she was used to, but this time it was a miserable silence, at best a thoughtful one, and every once in a while she caught him throwing concerned, appologetic glances towards Cid.

She sighed and stood again, picking up her clean plate and Vincent's half empty one without asking first. "What is wrong with you two tonight? Usually you're both so talkative...did something happen between you two?" She glanced back and forth between them, looking for an answer.

Vincent sighed inwardly. He knew that unless Shera was presented with a reasonably acceptable answer, she would never stop harrasing them. "It's about what we talked about yesterday." He lifted an eyebrow in emphasis, and Shera's eyes went wide as she put a hand over her mouth and darted her eyes over to Cid. The pilot, thankfully, didn't seem to notice their conversation at all. He stood, abruptly and without appology, and limped towards the garage door. Vincent watched him go inside, slamming the door shut behind him before they heard the clicking of the lock to the garage.

Shera watched Cid leave before she turned back to Vincent, he eyebrows narrowed. "VINCENT! I can't believe you Told him!"

"Shera, he has a right to know what's going on, it's his house and you're his wife. Truth to be told your lack of faith in him upset me, and he noticed I was upset and he asked me why. He's my...my friend, Shera...I...can't lie to him.." Vincent's voice had dropped lower and lower until he was muttering now. He sighed and stood up himself, looking down at the shoter woman. "Maybe you should be appologizing to him instead of yelling at me about it." With that he turned around, walking towards his bedroom as he left Shera looking for words behind him. He took the stairs two at a time, his long legs easily going the distance, and disappeared into his room before he was interrupted.

The window he'd left open earlier that morning was still ajar, and now the room was close to freezing as the late evening air, chilly in the approaching autumn, was blowing in. He shut it harshly, making sure he heard the slamming of it shut before he leaned against it and pressed his face into the cold window pane. Things, he concluded, were going horribly, horribly wrong these days. His converation about Shera's suspiscions, the tactless way he'd asked Cid, and now the pilot's uncharacteristic behavior were all making what he knew he had to do harder and harder. He sat down on the bed and wrapped the sky blue comforter around him, hoping it would live up to its name. He wanted to talk to Cid, this much he knew. He wanted to talk to the man, get him to understand why he asked Cid what he asked him. He knew there was no reason, no excuse good enough to explain the reasoning behind it, but knew deep down in his gut and in his heart it was the right thing to do. He could only hope the pilot would be able to see that, and soon.

Vincent wrapped the blanket around him tighter, wishing it was someone else instead.
* * * *

Life was proving to be one long, sick series of jokes and events right afte the other. Everything that could have gone wrong went wrong , and all in twenty four hours or less. Cid sat in the driver's seat of his car, his eyes shut as he sat in the darkness of the the garage. He'd pushed the attic opened above him, hoping the cold air it was letting into the room would soothe the stinging he felt in his eyes. He'd promised himself when he got in here that he wouldn't start crying again, and failed miserably. Now he could feel the long, wet streaks of drying tears on his face, and he was sure his prized apholstery would never be the same agan. Cid sighed and clicked the keys in the ignition back, letting the car run on the battery as he turned on the radio. He'd just caught the tail end of a song, and now a new one was playing. It started out simple, the strumming of guitar chords. It certainly wasn't country, and remembered breifly that Vincent had changed the channel the last time the two men were out here. Vincent....

"I was young but I wasn't naive
I watched helpless as you turned around to leave
And still I have the pain I have to carry
A past so deep that even you could not bury if you tried.."

Great...now even the radio was poking fun at him...

"...After all this time
I never thought we'd be here
Never thought we'd be here
When my love for you was blind
But I couldn't make you see it
Couldn't make you see it
That I loved you more than you'll ever know
A part of me died when I let you go..."

The singers voice was soft and mellow, and it sounded just like Cid felt- depressed, angry, upset, confused, all of that fun stuff that comes with heartache. He reached down and turned it up, if not to kick himself in the ass more for what was happening than to forget about whatever it he was sure to be feeling the next day
* * * *

Vincent reached over with a sigh, pushing the 'radio' button on the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was too quiet in the room, and quiet gave him time to think, and he didn't want to think. He scanned the stations, bound and determined not to land on country. Country music was, he was convinced, about nothing BUT heartache, liqour, getting your heart trampled on and losing your dog, all of which reminded him of Cid (don't ask him how). He finally stopped when he caught the middle part of a song, something that DEFINATELY did not sound like country, and he lay back down as he listened to the words.

"...I would fall asleep
Only in hopes of dreaming
That everything would be like is was before
But nights like this it seems are slowly fleeting
They disappear as reality is crashing to the floor...
After all this time
I never thought we'd be here
Never thought we'd be here
When my love for you was blind
But I couldn't make you see it
Couldn't make you see it
That I loved you more than you'll ever know
A part of me died when I let you go..."

Not this, not now. He reached up to turn the radio off, but he found out he couldn't. Maybe he really WAS a glutton for self punishment. He put his arm down behind his head and shut his eyes as he listened, and a knot in his stomach tightened. The song soon faded, only to be replaced with something electronic and upbeat, something that did not match his mood. The previous song matched his mood, and he wanted to hear it again...and again, and again, and over and over again just so every word could kick him in the ass. Night time was falling outside of his window, and he waited for the dark to creep in so he could, at least, sleep.

A pounding on his door, one violent and insistant. Crimson eyes fluttered open to be met with total and utter darkness, the still cold room silent except for the pounding on his bedroom door. He sat up, light headed and groggy as he looked at the alarm clock. It was well past midnight, six hours after he'd come up here to lay down. the pounding on the door wasn't letting up, and he stood and walked over to it, opening it up with a scowl. "WHAT?"

He didn't have much time to speak as he was grabbed violently at the collar of his shirt, and was pushed back and thrown down onto the bed as he heard his door close. Vincent pushed his hair out of his eyes, and stared up at, obviously, Cid. The blonde pilot was standing there, red face with fists balled tightly, staring down at Vincent like he was a threat or something equally as dangerous. He didn't even bother to keep his voice down as he started to speak. "Tell me why, damn it!"

Vincent blinked, trying not to balk under the angry stare or the dangerously angry pitch in Cid's voice. He'd never seen Cid this mad, at least not towards him, and the moonlight filtering in through the window barely lit up his body.Everything about the pilot's behavior was telling Vincent to be afraid of him- he absolutely refused to be, and he stood back up, calmly talking to the other man. "What the hell do you mean, 'tell you why'? 'Tell you why' WHAT?"

"Tell me why you fell for me! Tell me why I spent so much goddam energy and emotion on your ass just to have you throw it all back in my fucking face the minute something that jepordizes your morals comes up! Tell me why you've gotta end this and leave me with no say! TELL ME DAMMIT! Tell me why!" Cid knew his voice was loud, but he didn't care. He knew Shera could sleep through a big mac truck plowing through their house accompanied by a herd of tuba playing elephants and she wouldn't wake up. None of that mattered right now, not shera or the tuba playing elephants. His sight and anger was set on the man in front of him, who stood there with that infuriating calm look like he didn't care. Cid could feel an anger, almost a kind of anger building up against Vincent until he swore he was seeing red.

"....what...are you talking about?"

"What the fuck do you think I'm talkin' about?! Ah'm talking about you, damn it...'I can't do this anymore, I can't keep hiding, I can't keep lying'! All that crap you told me, an' you all but told me you were ending it and leaving without me having any kind of damn choice! You owe it to me to tell me WHY, Vince! You can leave if you want to, but there ain't no way in hell ah'm gonna let you without you giving me a GODDAM explaination like you owe me!" Cid could feel his voice dropping lower and lower as it became harder and harder to breathe, his breath coming in hard and sharp gasps of air. "Ah will NOT let you go without putting up a fight, dammit!"

Vincent stood there, flabberghasted. He honestly didn't know what to say, didn't know what words he COULD say to the pilot. He stared at nothing until the moonlight caught something wet on Cid's face, and Vincent realized with a clenching heart Cid was trying not to cry, the tears the man was holding back barely evident. "....Is that what you thought I was saying...that I wanted to leave?" He watched Cid just shot him a look, not being able to talk and keep breathing as best he could at the same time. Vincent walked over to the man, and without a word put both arms around the shorter man and hugged him as tight as he could. He felt Cid stiffen and turn his face away, but he didn't care. "You moronic man."

Cid opened his mouth, ready to scream one more time before he cut himself off. He could see over Vincent's shoulder towards the bed and could feel the man in his arms take a deep breath and sigh. "W-what?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

The words hit home harder than any scream or shout imaginable, and it took Cid a while to process them before he fully grasped their meaning. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath that could have been a relieved sigh before he put his arms around the skinny waist in front of him and squeezed. It was hard to breathe, his eyes stung, and his body felt tired and weak. He dind't even notice Vincent leading him towards the bed until he was pushed down on it, the gunman's surprisingly strong grip still around his torso. He felt Vincent slide into his lap and sit there as he was held, letting his breathing even out and the last of his hurt and anger be replaced with confusion.

He didn't know how long he sat there before he felt the long, skinny arms of the man in his own trail across his ribs and up to his face. Hazey blue ones met clear red ones before Cid felt a pair of soft, almost feminine lips graze over his own, then up his cheek and to his forehead, then back down to his lips again in a reassuring kiss.

Vincent didn't have much time to think as the grip around him became tigher, and the lips under his returned the kiss ferverently, Cid's tongue invading Vincent's mouth and brushing up against his own. They sat like that for a moment until Vincent pulled away, pushing Cid down onto his back as he did so. Vincent swept a hand over Cid's eyes, clearing them of any tears that might have escaped, and Cid stared up at him, a mixture of emotions in his face and in his eyes.

"cid?" Vincent's voice carried softly through the room.

The pilot cleared his throat, he answer still coming out harshly. "Yeah?"

"I love you, and I'm not leaving."

Cid couldn't help but smile slightly at the serious tone in Vincent's voice. "Really?"

"Really." Vincent leaned down, barely brushing his lips over Cid's as his hands wandered over the pilot's chest, digging lightly into the fabric. "And I'm going to show you right now just how much."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN- to be continued...

Edited 3/14/08