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Restful Death	By : ElfNight Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 603 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Restful Death
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 4
- 5
- 6
CHAPTER FIVE:

"Well, that was interesting..." Cloud said softly, staring up at the ceiling.
"Interesting?" Cid's voice was an indignant yelp. "Interesting?!"
"Interesting, as in very fun, unexpected, awesomely interesting!" Cloud hurried to add.
Cid relaxed back down onto his pillow. "Oh."
They lay there in contented silence for a moment, Cid's arm around Cloud while the smaller man rested his head against his
shoulder.
"So... what happens now?"
"Well," Cid drawled, his voice suddenly thick with mischief, "I want ya ta think about what we just did, okay? Sorta picture
it in yer head."
"Okay..."
"Got it?"
"Yeah..." Cloud sounded slightly breathless, and Cid's grin broadened.
"Now... picture Vincent."
"...okay."
"Exactly how he looks, and how he moves, and the way those eyes just glow at you..."
"...o-okay..."
"Got him?"
"Yeah..."
"Good. Now, put the two pictures together."
Silence.
Then a very faint moan.
"Oh - you are evil."
"True. But that's the answer to your question."
"Huh?"
"You asked what was going to happen now! That's what's going to happen now!"
"But Vincent isn't here."
"So? I know where he is. Let's go get him."
"...it's the middle of the night."
"You really wanna sleep, after thinking about that?"
"...let's take my bike."
Cid laughed.

*

Vincent sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.
Across the room, a mirror lay flat against the floor, its reflective surface turned down.
That had not been what he'd expected to see.
His face looked a bit like it used to - all planes and angles - but it was more frail, the features fine-drawn and delicate. He'd
been expecting something that reflected the demon lurking inside him, sure that Hojo would have deliberately made him
horrifying, trying to make his 'weapon' that much more effective against the enemy.
The ghost-white skin and ruby red eyes had been a shock. He'd stared into his eyes for a very long time, trying to recall the
memory of their former soft brown depths. He couldn't quite seem to catch the image - it twisted and skittered in his
thoughts until all he saw was the glowing scarlet.
His hair had been no real surprise - it had always been the same deep blue-black, now it was just ridiculously long. He
never considered cutting it, though. It came in very handy to hide behind, and he wasn't ready to stop hiding.
Not at all.
Not even if he was as monstrous to look at as he'd supposed. He still looked like some weird freak of nature; though he
wasn't sure why everyone wanted to stare. There were other odd-looking people in the world besides him.
So - no scars, no demonic features.
He couldn't quite wrap his brain around the idea.
So he tried again.
No scars, no demonic...
His eyes dropped down to the gleam of bronze that was his left arm. Well - there was this demonic feature. Almost twice as
wide as his other arm, an oversized hand with deadly claws where his fingers should have been.
He stared at it harder than he'd ever looked before - his eyes had always flinched away from the gruesome thing. Now, after
finding himself to be so different from what he'd imagined... he might as well extend his study to ever part of himself.
The claw was well-made, he'd give Hojo that. Of course, the scientist wouldn't have settled for less, the man was always
going on and on about how everything had to be perfect. Vincent couldn't help but admire the neat plating and exquisite
joins, even though he hated the actual claw. It was amazing, how articulated the finger joints were, and the bolts in the cuff
were set in so smoothly as to be almost invisible.
...bolts in the cuff?!
Vincent jerked the claw closer to his eyes, staring at the broad band of metal that circled his arm, just under his elbow. Why
were there bolts set in it?! Hojo had told him that it was part of him, could never be removed, that there was no way to
remove it, and why would he want to go about with only one and one-half arms if he could use his 'lovely creation'?
Vincent never even considered his next actions - his human fingers started tearing at the bolts, trying to work them loose. It
was hopeless, of course, they were set in tight, and even with his enhanced strength they wouldn't budge.
He needed some sort of tool...
He leapt to his feet, taking a brief moment to struggle back into his pants, and started tossing things out of the closet and
dragging them out from under the bed.
Surely he had something in this place that he could use!

*

"See anybody?"
"No - looks clear..."
Two men eased out of a hotel room and moved silently down the stairs. They kept their heads up and their eyes open,
watching for the ...enemy.
The night-time streets of the city were deserted, at least for now. It would be another hour or so before the gambling casinos
and bars started heaving customers out so they could prepare for the next day's fun.
It would be several hours before the 'honest' businesses started opening their doors to the day-workers.
Perfect time to escape without their pursuers spotting them.
"We're going to have to face them sooner or later," the shorter man whispered.
"Later, if I get my way," the broader one hissed back.
They fell silent again as they reached the street, ghosting down the sidewalk toward the place Cloud had hidden his
motorcycle. Both of them were trying to move fast without making any noise; it was only managed because they were both
highly-skilled fighters. Being quiet could sometimes mean the difference between life and death.
Cloud was in the lead, ducking through alleys and back streets just in the remote case that someone might be watching
them. He doubted it - if Tifa or Shera spotted them, their reaction would most certainly not be silent!
...it would probably leave their ears ringing for days!
"The bike is just in there," he finally said, nodding toward a darkened doorway, across the street from the alley they were
lurking in. "I rented the place - I've got the key."
"Good. Let's get out of here and go get our pretty Vince, what say?"
Cloud smiled at him, not sure if the older man could see it in the pressing darkness but not really caring. "I say lead on,
because I really want to see him."
"Just see him?" Cid teased, poking his head out past the wall cautiously and peering up and down the street.
"Well," Cloud wasn't used to teasing back, but he decided to try, "I want to see a lot of him..."
Cid snickered.
They finally decided that no females were lying in wait to pounce them when they came out; they emerged from the alley
and made a mad dash across the street to the safety of the storage building. Cloud opened the door.
Two minutes later, a powerful motorcycle went roaring down the streets, two riders hunched low as the machine nearly
flew away.

*

"Did you hear that?" Tifa's head came up sharply, like a hunting dog scenting the wind.
"That's a motorcycle," Shera's soft voice agreed, her tone questioning.
"That's Cloud's motorcycle! C'mon, I can tell which way it's going! I've practiced!" She grabbed the other woman's arm and
hauled her down the street to where they'd left their small rented jeep.
They weren't going to let those two get away - they were almost positive that Cloud and Cid were hiding out togther.
And they were going to find out what the hell was going on!

*

Vincent felt like ripping his hair out by the roots.
Not a single useful object in the whole damn house!
Well, there was his gun repair kit, but the tools in there were so small and delicate that trying to use them to get the bolts
off his claw would be like trying to kill a Mako beast with a flyswatter.
Wasn't going to happen.
So what now? He could walk into the city, he supposed... buy something that would get the damn things off. He was
desperate to see what was under the polished bronze - if his arm really was gone, or horribly deformed, he could - hopefully
- put it back on.
But he had to know.
He got to his feet and shrugged into his shirt, his good hand shaking as he tried to fasten the buttons.
He was only halfway done when the roar of a powerful motorcycle told him that someone was approaching his house.
Normally, he would have gone on instant defense, catching up Death Penalty and waiting to blow some enemy's head off.
Right now, the only thought that went through his muddled brain was to wonder if whoever it was might have a
screwdriver...
- 4
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- 6
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Restful Death