What t$#%?$#%?

BY : larch
Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 532
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.

Ignoring the protests from the authorities, ran ran over and started tossing heavier bits of debris aside. The men shut up one the realized not only that Cid was far stronger than either of them, but so frantic and desperate they’d lose a finger or two if they go in his way.

The dog kept pulling on Vincent’s arm, slowly tugging Vincent from the collapsed hotel.

"He’s still breathing! Get over here!" One of the men yelled to the woman and her kid, who ran over as soon as they heard he’d survived.

"He survived!" the other man yelled.

The dog, unable to state something obvious, started licking Vincent’s face before being shoved away. Annoyed, the dog started digging and sniffing at the debris.

"Screw this! He needs a hospital!" Cid yelled, then realized what he had just said. If Vincent woke up in the hospital, surrounded by doctors in white coats and messing with his wounds, there’d be some definite carna If If he didn’t wake up, but Vincent found out Cid had taken him to a hospital; he’d have the Death Penalty up his ass before it went off.

Then again, Vincent had changed since Cid had last known him. Considering the sex—the really great sex—that before Vincent would never had consented to and attempts usually made Cid sleep on the couch for a few nights, maybe Vincent had come to terms with other things.

"The nearest hospital’s in North Corel," one man said.

"He won’t make it," the other said.

The dog whimpered in sympathy.

"Fuck that. I got a plane and I wouldn’t follow speed limits if there were any. I can get him to damn good doctor in five minutes tops. Just throw some bandages on him so he doesn’t fall apart and give him to me."

"We were hoping to question him later, sir."

"Well question him when he’s conscious and not bleeding all over the place!"

"Sir, he’s the only one who survived. We already pulled all the other guests out, but they were all dead from sword wounds. Even the manager and his daughter were dead."

"We didn’t even know he was here. We checked the roster, and he wasn’t listed in it," his buddy said.

"Whatever, give him to me and we’ll focus on keeping him alive," Cid demanded.

"Hey, do we tell you how to do your job?" One of them said.

"Well you told me some shit about better behavior for someone in jail for murder when I didn’t do it."

"Look, just go away and don’t come back for a long time and you can take him."

Cid took Vincent from the woman, who had barely managed to apply enough bandages on him and took off to the plane, which he swore couldn’t be parked farther away.

* * * * *

"Hang on Vince, I’ll get you somewhere they’ll fix you up real good. And please don’t kill me," Cid said, desperately.

Vincent couldn’t be paying less attention, still unconscious. Cid had had a hard time buckling Vincent in. It was bad enough Vincent wasn’t cooperating and bled all over the seatbelts, making them slippery and too grimy to work, but he kept slumping and slipping out of the seat.

"Come on, you dumb plane, go faster!" Cid muttered.

"Yes, talking to it is going to help, I can see why you’re such an expert mechanic," an all too familiar and very smug voice said.

Cid screamed and turned around, only to have the plane start to barrel roll once he let go of the controls.

Before they hit the ground, the plane leveled itself upright and started to climb in altitude again.

"Yeah, give the pilot a heart attack, real smart!" Cid yelled. "And how the hell did you get on my plane?"

"The door was unlocked," Sephiroth said, standing up, but completely unfazed from the nearly fatal stunt.

"Why the hell are you here?"

"There’s absolutely nothing on that continent. I know that and I’ve been dead for god knows how long."

"Three years. But that doesn’t explain why you’re on my plane."

"Someone took my sword. Someone who knew I’d come back and knew most of my powers were due to Jenova."


"And there were very few people aware of the powers of Jenova, especially of the ability to come back from the dead. If they took my sword, they not only want someone dead, but they want to start a panic at the same time."

"Fucking great, Shirley."

"I think you mean ‘Sherlock.’"

"I don’t fucking care! Why MY plane?"

"Because you were interested in why the bomb went off in the crater and so am I."

"Look, just ‘cause your following me doesn’t mean we’re on the same side."

"Pity. And I thought you were smart. I don’t recommend declaring me your enemy."

He had a point, Cid realized. Jenova or no Jenova, dress or no dress, flying or not flying, making Sephiroth your enemy was on anyone’s the top ten list of things not to do, right above wandering into Midgar Zolom country during mating season.

"Okay, fine. But if you’re in my plane or my house you follow my rules."

"Yes, fine, I’ll pick up my socks. What about him? Do you usually cart corpses around, or did you lose a bet."

"Don’t you touch him or I’ll take my hands of these controls on purpose!"

"Yes, mom."

"Okay, first rule. Don’t you ever fucking call me that again or I’m going to improve that girly hairdo of yours!"

* * * * *

Daren was in a cheerful mood, whistling, as he wiped down the counter, ready to leave for the day.

Everything—his mood, his whistling, and his cleaning, was interrupted as he heard someone kick his door down, off it’s hinges.

"You could have knocked!" he complained as he turned around to see Cid Highwind barging in. "Or used the doorknob!"

"No time. Here," Cid said, thrusting Vincent into Daren’s arms.

"What do you mean ‘here?’" Daren asked, struggling to hold Vincent up.

"Holy crap, what a wuss," Cid said, taking Vincent form Daren. "You’re a doctor, fix him!"

"Fix him? What the hell’s wrong with him?"

"What kinda of a goddamn doctor are you? Look at him?"

"I meant what the hell happened to him. Don’t handle him like that! Any bones broken?"

"How should I know? You’re the doctor!"

"Well, has the bleeding stopped?"

"I dunno."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"I dunno. Look, shut up and start fixing himore ore I rip your throat out."

"I’m a doctor not a plumber! You can’t just take him apart and figwwu out what’s wrong later?"

"Why not?"

"Here, just put him down on the table there. He’s breathing so he’s going to survive. I think you’d be a bigger help to your friend here if you left."

"I’m not leaving him alone with you! Who knows where you’ve been!"

"I came back from the dead for this?" Sephiroth, who had been in the doorway the entire time, asked himself.

* * * * *

As much as he’d protested to stay and watch every move Daren made, Cid was out of the tiny hospital in less than fifteen minutes. Vincent had a very bad black eye, well, more indigo than black, and Daren had been right to check the actual eyeball for damage. The minute he started operating on the eye, Cid fell backwards on the floor with a deafening thud.

Daren had gone back to operating, not noticing who it was who dragged Cid out of the room.

Cid woke up outside and decided to sit on he steps of the revamped building-turned-hospital while Sephiroth ignored him. Considering the alternatives, it suited Cid just fine.

It was five hours before Daren came out. "Okay. That should do it." There was blood all over his face, hands, and clothes. He wiped his brow, only spreading the blood around on his face. "He should be fine. Be careful that he doesn’t pop the stitches, and don’t take the bandage off his eye for the next two days. You can take him home; now go make threats on someone else’s life."

Cid leapt up and ran in to retrieve Vincent, obviously not wanting him to stay here a second longer.

Daren and Sephiroth looked at each other. Daren blinked and tilted his head slightly.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow.

"You look familiar," the both said at once.

"So… what exactly happened?" Daren asked.

"I wasn’t there. I heard the hotel collapsed and everyone else died of sword wounds."

Daren noticed Sephiroth seemed interested in the sword wound part, but he decided it was better not to ask anyone who seemed too interested in weapons lest they decide to try one out. "Inteing.ing. Most of the wounds on him were made with a sword. He’s tougher than I thought."

"You sure it was a sword?"

"Either that or a very thin baseball bat."

"Hey you!" Daren heard Cid yell. That had become one of Cid’s nicer names for him.

"Yes?" Daren asked, turning to Cid.

"What’s the big idea taking his shirt off?"

"Oh for—Don’t carry him like that!"

"Answer my damn question! Why’d you take Vincent’s damn shirt off?"

"For crying out loud he had three broken rips and a—that’s Vincent? You mean Vincent Valentine?"

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