Manor House
Chapter Seven

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Cloud/Reno, Tifa/Barret, Aeris/Tseng, Zack/Sephiroth, Vincent/Cid, Reeve/Rufus, Yuffie/Elena, Charles/Nathan, Toki/Skwisgaar.
Warnings: Teen angst.
Summary: It’s early in the morning, and creatures are stirring. Cid treats himself to a make-over, Andy has coffee with his mom, Loz ponders being stupid, and Charles has a crisis on his hands.
Notes: Illustration by Animama

Cid trailed his finger down Vincent’s fine thin nose as he lay with his head on his shoulder, his fair skin glowing softly in the moonlight.

“You awake?” Cid asked softly.

Vincent did not move. He was, quite literally, dead to the world. His breathing had stopped, his blood had pooled, and his body was cold. For most people this would be a time to panic. To Cid it just meant his unique lover was in an exceptionally heavy slumber.

Cid gave him a soft kiss, then eased his arm out from beneath Vincent, gently settling him down into the mattress. He kissed him again, then got up and dressed. Turning back to the bed once more, he tucked Vincent in, then left, glancing at the clock on the wall in the lobby of the inn. It was 10:20 pm. Plenty of time to hop home in his small aircraft and do a little research.

He wasn’t comfortable with himself. He wasn’t ungrateful for what Sephiroth had done, but… he wasn’t comfortable with it, either. He had thought he wanted this, but he realized now what he really wanted was to get things done under his own power. He had things in his body he didn’t understand, and he wasn’t going to be able to relax until he did.

He was home in Costa del Sol in twenty minutes, parking the small plane on the grass runway and leaving it there as he got out and made his way to his stone house. He walked into his livingroom, and paused, watching as Tseng, Aeris, Rude, Teddy and David all sat around his livingroom, drinking tea and embroidering.

“Hi Cid,” said Aeris.

“What the hell are you people doing?” asked Cid.

“Embroidering,” said Teddy. “It’s fun.”

“You people are all sick. Aeris do you still have that little monitoring thingie that you used for tracking Tseng’s alpha nanite?”

“Yes. It’s in my room on the bookshelf.”

“Mind if I borrow it for a few days?”

“No, go right ahead. We don’t really need it anymore.”

“Thanks.”

Cid went upstairs and into Aeris’ room to fetch the device, finding it quickly. He then went into his own bedroom, closing the door before picking up the phone to call Reeve. After seven rings the man picked up, clearly having been awakened.

“This better be good,” he growled.

“Reeve! Ya sound just like Rufus when you’re awakened.”

“What do you want, Highwind?”

“This little nanite-tracker dealie…”

“Yes?”

“Does it track any nanite, or just one specific one?”

“For crying out loud, Cid…”

“I need to know. Please. Just tell me and I will get out of your hair.”

“It will track any nanite you order it to. If you want it to track a different nanite, just use a patch cord to plug it into a computer. It will download a programme to the hard drive that will allow you to assign a new alpha and give it instructions. The programme is very simple to use. Even Rufus could figure it out. And I say that with love.”

Cid grinned. “Thanks Reeve, now go back to bed.”

“Hrumph.”

Cid hung up, then took the device and went into the office in his hangar. Within minutes he had it hooked up, the programme downloaded, and Cid Highwind was happily and busily digging through what he had found.

Reeve was right – the programme was simple. Very straight forward, very easy to use. Any child could have done it. Cid transferred the nanite tracker’s frequency from Tseng to himself, then chose a new alpha nanite, grinning as the tiny golden machine he could see on his computer screen did a victory dance. Then a new screen on the computer opened up. Curious, Cid leaned forward and read aloud what was in the window.

“Hello. I am your alpha nanite. What would you like to call me?”

Cid thought about that. He was terrible at naming things. Finally he just picked his favourite Rolling Stones song and typed in ‘Lady Jane’, then hit ‘enter’.

Do you wish to call me ‘Lady Jane’? Y/N.

Cid hit Y then lit up a cigarette.

Do you wish to examine my programming? Y/N.

Y

Cid looked around for an ashtray. When he turned back another window had opened, this one with two options. The first was “pre-programmed functions”, and the second was “learned functions.”

Cid clicked on the “learned functions” button, and was greeted with a list of everything Baby had taught his nanites to do. Well this should be interesting. Cid grinned as at the top of this list was a lot of complicated computer-speak that basically translated into “detect Cheez-Its.” Well he didn’t like Cheez-Its, so he could do without that one. Cid clicked on the command to see if there was any further information on it. What came up was a little window asking him if he wished the nanites to unlearn this behaviour. Cid clicked Y, then grinned even wider as a second pop-up showed.

Do you wish Lady Jane to command all nanites within host body Cid Highwind to forget this behaviour?

Oh yeah. Cid Highwind was back in command.

Y

Lady Jane told him this behaviour was now forgotten, but he could re-learn it at a later date. Fine and dandy, if he ever developed a mad urge to be able to track Cheez-Its, he would be sure to teach them how. What else could these little goobers do?

Cid went down the list of learned commands. Some were pretty useful, some not so much. A few looked like accidental spam. He couldn’t see needing an additional rush of adrenaline upon sighting a worm, for example. Oh here was one he could do without – increase weight and bone density 100% of normal. He was already 195, he was a big guy. He didn’t really need to weigh 390 pounds. It would be hell on the bed and even worse on the little guy he shared it with. On the other hand a little additional strength and muscle tone would be nice. After all he wasn’t as young as he used to be.

Do you wish Lady Jane to adjust muscle mass and bone density?

Y

Type in % then a + or – to indicate greater than present mass and density or lesser than.

Cid thought, then typed in 15% -

Is this correct?

“Shit no!” grumbled Cid.

N

Type in % then a + or – to indicate greater than present mass and density or lesser than.

15% +

Is this correct?

Y

Oh here was a good one – physical age and appearance. He scrutinized the age the nanites were set at. Well 21 was good for slender bishonen like Reno and Cloud and Sephiroth, but when he was 21 he was nothing but big awkward bones shoved into a skin sack. Early thirties had been much better. He’d been pretty hot stuff at 32.

Do you wish Lady Jane to adjust physical age to 32?

Y

Then, near the bottom, he spied the one behaviour he most wanted to get rid of – creation of ovum upon detection of spermatozoa leading to viable embryo.

Do you wish Lady Jane to command all nanites within host body Cid Highwind to forget this behaviour?

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Check keyboard. Y key appears to be malfunctioning. Do you wish Lady Jane to command all nanites within host body Cid Highwind to forget this behaviour?

Y

Behaviour forgotten.

Cid breathed a sigh of relief, then went to look at the pre-programmed behaviours. He blinked in surprise as he spied one command in particular.

“The wings,” he said softly. “It’s not the genetic manipulation that determines the dimensions, it’s the nanites. The manipulation just makes it possible for them to be, but the nanites choose the size and shape…”

Cid tore out of the office, running into the house to grab a book on birds before hurrying back. For the next five hours Cid sketched, planned and calculated, feeding dimensions into the computer, altering the specifics on the wings.

Finally, at five in the morning, Cid was back in his room at the Nibelheim inn, slipping into bed once more beside Vincent. Cid softly kissed his lips, then blew lightly into his face. Vincent drew a sharp gasp of breath, raising his head. He blinked confused red eyes at Cid.

“Was I dead?” he asked drowsily.

“Yeah. Bed was getting a little cold.”

“Mph. Sorry.”

“It’s okay babe. Snuggle up.”

Vincent did, settling against Cid and falling into a deep sleep once more. This time however he continued to breathe, and soon his small body had warmed. Cid gently kissed him, then pulled the covers up and drifted into sleep as well.

***---***

“Chip,” whispered a soft voice.

Andy opened his eyes, and found himself gazing up at a beautiful china-doll face. “Hey Yazzy. I guess I fell asleep. What time is is?”

“Five-twenty.”

Andy sat up, feeling groggy and bleary. The house was silent, and he felt clammy from having slept in his clothes.

“I’ve got to get going.”

“I wish you could stay.”

“I do too, Yazzy, but I can’t be missing school if I want to be a doctor.” Andy pulled on his sneakers as Yazoo gathered up his books and laptop for him. Andy gave him a last lingering kiss, then left the quiet villa, going outside and around the back of the yellow house to get his bike. He paused briefly to sigh heavily and the sight of Cloud’s massive feral-looking motorcycle, and beside it Yazoo’s equally impressive black machine. Loz’s larger motorcycle was beside Yazoo’s, the paint scraped, the body dented. Then, parked right next to that… was a little blue scooter.

Andy was sure he could hear Fenrir and the other two bikes snorting and giggling as he walked over to the scooter.

“Leave my bike alone,” he grumbled.

He got on the scooter and drove home, parking his bike before the house and going inside, dropping his load of books onto the table. His mother was already up, looking weary and worried.

“Andy what did we agree about staying at Yazoo’s on a school night?”

“Sorry. I fell asleep.”

“Did you get any studying done? You know you have the…”

Andy paused and sighed heavily. “Mom, give me a little credit, okay? Please?”

“Don’t snap at me young man.”

“I’m not snapping but I’m not the one in this house who forgets to study! Talk to Miss Hairspray and her enchanted water bra.”

Andy’s mother gasped. “Did she buy that after I told her not to?”

“She not only bought it, she wears it. And why don’t you ask her what grade she got on that science exam she said she didn’t have to take.” Andy began rummaging through the fridge for orange juice. “I get up at six, I study, I go to school, I come home, I study, I go to bed, and on weekends I’m up at Healin studying some more under Dr. Pierce. All I do is study. Spending one weekend with my boyfriend is not going to end my life.” Andy pulled out the carton of orange juice. “The Hairspray Demon strikes again.” He set the empty carton aside.

“There should be more orange juice in there. I’ll make breakfast. How is Yazoo?”

“He’s good, despite being eternally pregnant with no end in sight. He actually sent me out yesterday looking for bean curd candy. I didn’t even know there was such a thing!”

Mrs. Kindle snorted in amusement. Andy found the second carton of orange juice, pulling it out. “And this one is empty too. Terrific. That’s it, I’m having coffee.”

“You know I don’t like you drinking coffee, you’re too young.”

Andy stuck his lower lip out. “Zack lets me drink coffee.”

“Well Zack is not your mother, is he?”

“No but he’s physically capable of it.” Andy began making coffee. “Besides, I’ll be seventeen in a week.”

“Hard to believe. Both of my children are getting too old.”

“You can still have another.”

“I could but I’d really rather not do it without a husband to help out.” She glanced at Andy. “Did you invite Yazoo to the party?”

“Of course!” Andy spooned coffee into the coffee maker. “He’s my baby!”

“You know your father is going to be there. And… your aunts and uncles.”

“I know.”

“And… you still want Yazoo to come?”

Andy closed the container on the coffee. “Mom they’re going to find out sooner or later.” He glanced at her. “You’re not embarrassed about me are you?”

“No of course not, Andy. But you know what your father is like.”

“If Dad wants to pick on Yazoo then let him go for it.”

“Andy…”

“I mean it! The man is a coward! He threw me out of the house, after he beat the hell out of me, and then the moment you come home suddenly it’s not his fault, I provoked him, I did something mean to him. I mean look at me! I couldn’t defend myself from anything more aggressive than a budgie. If he wants to go head to head with a scientifically engineered warrior then let him.” Andy poured water into the coffee maker.

“You’re not worried he might hurt Yazoo’s feelings?”

“Mom,” said Andy, “I’m not telling Yazoo he can’t come because my relatives are bigoted homophobes who might pop a gasket that the only boy in the family is in love with another boy. And they can’t call me gay because I’m not, trust me on that. But Yazoo is special. He’s my gift and I love him. And if there are issues about him being at my party because Dad and Auntie Myra and Auntie Faith and Uncle Jacob might get their oh-so-precious panties in a bunch then I’ll take my boyfriend and go have my party somewhere else.”

Mrs. Kindle sighed quietly. “Well it’s your party. I’m not going to tell you who to invite, especially since I would rather see Yazoo than your relatives.”

“They’re your relatives too, mom.” Andy began digging through a seldom used canister, searching for cinnamon to put in his coffee.

“Don’t remind me.” She shook her head. “Just be careful, all right? And look after Yazoo. I would hate to see those people hurt his feelings.”

“Don’t worry about Yazzy, mom. He may be a little socially inept but there’s nothing wrong with his self esteem. Uh… mom?”

“Yes Andy?”

Andy pulled out a round lavender disc with a clear cover containing small pills. “Why are there birth control pills in the spice canister?”

Lilith Kindle stared wide-eyed at the container. She threw her apron and the spatula she held onto the table. “Because your sister knew I would find them if she put them in her drawers. ANDREA MEREDITH KINDLE!”

Andy grinned and went to tend to his breakfast as his mother and sister fought. He could hear Andrea whining.

“Well how come Andy goes and spends the weekend with his boyfriend and I can’t do that with mine?”

“Because Andy is a straight ‘A’ student with a job at a prestigious clinic and a life goal and understands the concept of personal responsibility and accepting the consequences of one’s actions!”

“I understand responsibility! I take a pill when Danny and I are going to do it!”

“That’s not how it works, sis,” said Andy quietly as he poked at his eggs.

“All right young lady I have had it with you. Get up and get dressed. I am taking you to the clinic and then we are signing you up for the ‘Scared Straight’ programme at the police department.”

“Mo-om! Only stupid loser kids have to go there!”

“If the water-bra fits,” said Andy softly as he reached for his coffee.

***---***

As Andy listened to his mother and sister fight, Loz was in Nibelheim, throwing bricks into a natural opening in the ground, feeling sorry for himself. Sephiroth was mad at him, Reno was mad at him, Yazoo, Cloud, Zack, Angeal… almost everybody was mad at him And he had reached out several times to Yazoo, wanting the security of their psychic link back But Yazoo would not re-establish contact.

Loz had never been without at least one of his brothers, and the silence was almost more than he could bear. He was in tears, tossing bricks into a hole, and doing something he rarely ever did – he was thinking.

It had been easy to dismiss the feelings of other people. It was, after all, how he had been raised. The only thing that had mattered was Mother. What Mother commanded, Loz did. Life was simple. Then there had been a fight, and Yazoo had been badly, badly injured. They had left Yazoo, severed their connection with him, and for the first time in his life Loz had thought about someone other than himself. He hadn’t liked leaving Yazoo and abandoning him, but Mother commanded it, so that was what he did. Things had been getting increasingly complicated ever since.

Loz wiped at his eyes with the back of one hand and resumed tossing bricks. He didn’t like thinking; he wasn’t good at it, and frankly it wasn’t his job. He had been created to be a powerful brutish enforcer, the muscle behind Kadaj’s evil. Thinking was his brother’s job. All he had to do was be big and mean and intimidating. And he had been very good at it. Now his life was completely changed and everyone wanted him to think all the time. They wanted him to think about his actions, and the consequences of his actions, and how they made him feel and how they made others feel and he just didn’t know how to do that. Now everyone was mad. He didn’t really care much about how most people felt. But it hurt to have Yazoo angry at him. And when Phoenix said he wanted to break up… that really cut him. He cried at the drop of a hat anyway, but every time he thought about Phoenix saying he was breaking up with him…

Loz pulled out his phone and called Phoenix. He listened to the distant ring with a sick knot in his stomach, and wiped his eyes furiously with one grimy hand. Then the call was answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi Phoenix.”

“Loz I’m not supposed to talk to you. Mother is really angry at you.”

“I know. Everybody is angry at me. I don’t know why!”

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t! It’s not my fault I’m stupid! You’re stupid too, why is no one mad at you?”

There was a long pause. “Well?” said Loz.

“Sorry I was distracted by something shiny.”

“I like shiny.”

There was another long pause.

“What were we talking about?” asked Phoenix.

“Being stupid.”

“Oh! Right. Well… maybe… it’s a different kind of stupid.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… I think we’re both people-stupid, but in different ways. I know how to behave around people but sometimes I forget and then I get in trouble. But no one ever taught you to be with people. So you don’t know how not to be stupid.”

“That makes sense.”

“But Loz… you have to care when you hurt the feelings of someone you like. If you don’t care then they go away. And you’ll be all alone.”

“Does that mean not doing things I know bug you?”

“Yes.”

“And… can I tell you when you do things that bug me, and you will stop doing them?”

“Yes of course, Loz.”

Loz pouted. “Well that’s not fair! You don’t do anything that bugs me!”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to bug you and you can tell me to stop.”

“Okay. Phoenix? Can we be friends again? I don’t like being without you. My stomach’s all sick and I can’t stop crying.”

“First I want you to tell me something. And be honest. Even if you know I won’t like it. Did you mean to kick over a small cradle with an infant in it?”

“No,” said Loz. “No I didn’t an’ I never would. I meant to kick the foot stool next to her but I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“You’re sure.”

Loz nodded, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. “Uh huh. I didn’t mean to knock over the cradle, Phoenix I really didn’t!” Loz fought back the tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry for everything. If I’m good can I come visit you later? We can go for a ride on my motorcycle.”

“Okay. I’d like that. Four o’clock? Mother and Father will be out looking at the property where we are building our new house. They can’t tell me not to go out if they’re not here for me to ask if I can go out.”

Loz perked up. “Okay! I’ll see you then.”

“Okay Loz. Bye.”

“Bye.” Loz ended the call and closed the phone. Suddenly life didn’t stink so much any more.

***---***

It was eight-thirty in the morning, and Cid was aware of something soft gently nuzzling him. At first he thought it was Skippy, but then he realized Skippy was at home and he was at the inn in Nibelheim. He opened one eye, and saw a skinny little pretty boy with a bad chop-job on his hair leaning over him. The red eyes were very focused. Cid felt a little worm of worry enter his mind.

“Uh… Vin? You feeling okay?”

Vincent stared at him a few moments longer, finally speaking just when Cid was thinking it might be a good idea to call for backup.

“I have no idea what you did to yourself…. But I like it.”

The enormous bat wings shot out, sweeping lamps and small items off the bedside table, then Vincent pounced on Cid with a loud snarl. Cid yelped as he was knocked off the bed and suddenly found himself on top of a small demon on the floor, enormous wings flapping.

“Vincent what the hell has gotten into you?”

“It better be you and it better be in the next three seconds.”

“Vincent!”

“You in me or me in you, Highwind. No other options.”

“Well since you put it that way…”

Cid carefully picked up the bundle of claws and wings and tossed him onto the bed, then pounced on him. The wings wrapped around him, holding him tight, and the claws raked down his back. Vincent threw his head back and uttered a strange, high-pitched cry as Cid penetrated him. The bed shook as he began thrusting into him, and neither were aware of the door opening; Cid was far too busy trying to have sex while avoiding getting pummelled by wings, and Vincent was far too busy getting Cid to thrust harder and deeper into him. Barret peered in.

“Damn you two, what the hell are you OH MY GOD I’M BLIND! OH GOD THAT’S NASTY! OH SHIT! I SAW HIGHWIND’S ASS! SOMEONE KILL ME! I’M COMMIN’ MAMA! YOUR BOY AIN’T LIVING THROUGH THIS ONE!” Barret slammed the door.

“Drama queen,” growled Cid.

“Don’t stop!”

“I ain’t stopping.” Cid kissed him hard. “But I wish I knew what sparked your engine so I can do it again.”

Vincent threw his arms around his neck and kissed him. “You spark my engine.”

“Yeah I am pretty hot stuff.” Cid flinched as he was dealt a glancing blow from a wing. “Hey!”

“Sorry.”

“Uh-huh.” Cid grinned, then kissed him hard. “You’re beautiful you know.”

“Have you looked in the mirror? So are you.”

Oh-ho, so that was what had Mr. Valentine’s boiler stoked. Well how could he refuse a man with such excellent taste in men?

Sex was hard, fast and intense. By the time they were done the room was trashed. Those big-ass bat wings of Vincent’s had a very impressive span, and when they were flapping in an enclosed space they took out everything. Cid lay on his back in bed, cigarette in his right hand, his left arm around Vincent, who was sunk contentedly against Cid’s chest.

“That was fantastic,” Vincent said dreamily.

Cid just grinned. After a few minutes Vincent sat up and stretched, wearing nothing but a full length black glove on his left arm. “I suppose we’re done here.” He began walking over to a mirror to examine what he had done to his hair.

“I guess we are,” said Cid. “The monsters are all gone, the haunted bricks are gone. No reason for us to stay.”

“No I don’t suppose there is.” Vincent sighed. “My hair…” he whimpered.

“You look fine, love.”

“I look twelve is what I look like. I never liked having short hair. I look like a little girl. The best part of being undead was I could just let it grow.” He sighed again, then looked over his shoulder at Cid. “And what happened to you? I would swear you were ten years younger.”

“I am.”

“I thought the nanites automatically set one’s physical age to twenty-one.”

“Not if you tell them otherwise.”

Vincent laughed quietly. “Only you can train a nanite in less than a day. Have you thought about what you’re going to do if you get pregnant?”

Cid finished his cigarette and stubbed out the butt. “I ain’t getting pregnant.” He threw back the covers and stood up.

Vincent looked over his shoulder at his husband. “You sound like you know something I don’t.”

“I do. I called Reeve and found out a few things about the little beauties that those gorgeous genetically-altered death-machines don’t seem to be aware of. Namely…” Cid began hunting for his clothes, “That you can reprogram them with one of those do-hickeys that tracks the alpha. Took no time to learn. All I had to do was go through the learned commands and command it to forget that little baby-making trick. Besides, I already have a perfectly acceptable baby-maker. Then I made a few other changes. I decided I liked being me. I ain’t cut out to be some super-warrior, I don’t wanna be faster than a speeding bullet or able to leap tall buildings. I just wanna be me. So… I’m me.”

“What about the wings?” asked Vincent softly. “The whole point of this was because you wanted to fly.”

Cid grinned. “Oh I kept that. Made a few alterations though. I can’t wait to show you. Baby you are gonna crap a rabbit when you get a load of those beauties.”

“Just what I’ve always wanted to do,” said Vincent dryly. “Can the wings wait a little? I have something I want to do before we leave.”

“Sure hon. What?”

“I want to go into the Manor and… see the room one last time. Before Tifa has it blocked off or renovated. I’m not sure what she’s planning on doing with it.”

Cid rolled his eyes. “Vincent…”

“Please Cid, it’s important to me.”

“It will just upset you. I hate seeing you upset Vincent, it eats me alive.”

Vincent turned to look at Cid. “Please. Just one last look. Then we’ll go.” He looked around. “After we straighten this room out a bit.”

Cid gazed back at Vincent, reading in his eyes how much this meant to him. He sighed, relenting.

“Well how can I say no to such a cute little girl?”

Vincent poked his tongue out at him, then began getting dressed. Within a few minutes they were ready, leaving the room and stepping into the hall where they were met by Barret. He gazed at the pair sourly.

“What the hell happened to you two?”

“What do you mean?” asked Cid.

“The both of you look so damn young! Cid you look like you’re ten years younger, and Vincent..! Damn Vincent looks twelve! Ya look like a couple of kids!”

“Well gosh golly Mr. Wallace we are kids,” said Cid. “We’re gonna go down to the malt shop and hang with our friends, then we’re gonna go to the drive in picture show! It’ll be keen!”

Barret waved his arms. “Get away from me ya damned jackasses! Everywhere I go, there’s jackasses!”

He turned and began moving quickly away. Cid followed after him.

“Aw come on, we were gonna go down to Biff Wankersein’s house and play records! It’ll be neato!”

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME, YA WEIRDO, YOU’RE SCARING ME!”

Vincent watched Cid tear after Barret and sighed quietly, warm affection in his red eyes. He caught something just at the edge of his vision, and when he glanced at it he saw the ragged tendrils of his cape raising up like strange cobras and forming little hearts.

“Quit that. It’s bad enough I look twelve, I don’t have to act like it.”

The hearts dropped, and Vincent followed after Cid, his cape swaying behind him. “Cid, leave Barret alone.”

“Aw I never get to have any fun.”

Vincent met Cid in the lobby, taking his arm. Together they walked up the road in the early morning sunlight to the old manor house.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Cid.

Vincent nodded. “Teddy said I still haunt this place. I want to know why.”

“You do have a pretty intense history with this house.”

“I know. But I thought I had moved on. If I still haunt this house I must have a reason.”

“Getting shot and renovated against your will seems a pretty good reason. I mean you did die there, babe.”

Vincent smiled slightly. “I do seem to recall that, yes.”

They walked through the house, heading to the room with the hidden panel. Except the panel was not so hidden any more. Loz had been most thorough in removing the bricks. Cid and Vincent went down the stairs into the tunnels, and walked in silence down the silent hall until they reached the little room where, ten years ago, Cloud had found Vincent. Silently the pair stood before the door as Cid placed an arm around Vincent’s shoulders.

“You sure you want to go in there, babe?”

Vincent nodded, then reached out his right hand and gently pushed the crumbling door opened. He stepped into the tiny room, looking around, his feet making little sound on the rotting floorboards, the brass claws on his shoes tearing through the decomposing wood like a horse’s hoof in soft turf.

“It’s so small,” he said quietly. He walked over to the coffin where he had lain for so long, and sat down on the edge of it. “I was so devastated. I can’t even describe to you how broken inside I was.”

Cid looked around the small room, stacked with cheap coffins. The walls were black with rot, and the ceiling tiles were falling away like rags of skin on a dead man’s arm. The place reeked of decomposition and despair.

“Makes me ill to think of you down here,” said Cid.

“It was the best place for me,” said Vincent. “I had lost everything. The woman I loved, my child, even my life. And I did love her, Cid. You have no idea. I would have suffered anything for her.”

“And you sure as hell did,” said Cid.

“Would… would you mind leaving me alone for a few minutes Cid?”

Cid actually minded quite a bit. He wanted nothing more than to grab Vincent and get him out of here. Instead he nodded.

“Okay. I’ll just be in the next room, in the study.”

Vincent nodded, and Cid slowly, reluctantly, left him in the tiny chamber among the bones and the caskets and other symbols of the dead past. He walked down the hall to the study and pushed the door open, and paused.

There was a form standing there, silent among the darkness and debris, clad in a Turk uniform, though he looked too small to be a Turk. He was thin and leggy, with a mop of black hair that he had tried to style. He had the largest and most soulful brown eyes Cid had ever seen, and everything about him spoke to Cid of heartbreak so profound as to be bordering on madness.

“Vincent?” he said softly.

The spectre continued to stare, like a dog waiting for a master that would never come home. Cid walked over to the ghost. Outside it was a lovely spring morning. Here in the depths of the manor it may as well be midnight in winter.

“Vincent,” said Cid again. He swallowed nervously, then looked back over his shoulder to where he knew his Vincent was sitting among the caskets. He returned his gaze to the thin little man before him.

“Why are you here?” he asked softly.

Vincent stared through time to the adjoining office, where Lucrecia was promising herself to Hojo. The expression on his face said more than words ever could.

“She told me to wait right here. I’m waiting. She said to wait. She won’t be long…”

So that was it, thought Cid. That was the defining moment. Not his murder, but his betrayal. That was when Vincent became trapped here. He was still waiting for someone who would never come for him. Cid stepped before him.

“Vincent,” he said quietly. “She’s not here anymore. She left a very long time ago.”

“No, she said...”

“She lied,” said Cid, his voice soft. “Lucrecia is not here anymore. She left with Hojo. She’s not coming back for you.” He shifted, feeling uncomfortable. “I’m sorry.”

“But…”

“Come on, baby. It’s time to go. You don’t belong here anymore. You have a whole brand new life with friends and a husband who wouldn’t trade you for anybody.”

The spectre seemed puzzled. “Husband?”

“Yeah. Big buff handsome guy.”

The ghost cocked his head. “Husband?” he said again.

“Yup.”

“Wow. When I told her she was the only woman I would ever love I guess I meant it.”

Cid grinned. “Time to go, babe. She’s not coming. You’ve got a home and a family that adores you, and a mother who worried herself sick for thirty years. Leave Lucrecia in the past for once and for all.”

The ghost seemed to think, then nodded. Saying nothing more, he turned and silently walked away, vanishing to dust. Cid left the office, walking into the room with the caskets and over to Vincent. He picked him up and slung him over his shoulders.

“Come on, you’ve lost enough of yourself in this hellhole. I’m taking you home, where we will decide who gets to give you a baby next, me or Barret.”

Vincent perched on Cid’s shoulders like a strange animal. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Sure you do, babe.”

“Good. I pick that hot sack of muscle that mows the lawn at Benji and Aiden’s pre-school.”

“Bob the groundskeeper it is. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

Together Cid and Vincent left the dark tunnels beneath the manor, heading out into the bright spring morning.

***---***

“Well? What’s the matter with him?” Charles asked, his tone clipped. He was standing in the hall outside the main room of Mordhaus, Lydia in his arms.

Dr. Blackwood shook his head. “We don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean,” said Blackwood, “he has been tested and retested and CAT scanned and X-rayed, he has had marrow drawn, spinal fluid examined, been analyzed and tested in the best hospitals by the best doctors, and all we can tell you is he is dying. We have examined him for everything from the most likely ailments to diseases so rare that only a meagre handful of physicians can claim to have encountered them. I’m sorry Charles, there isn’t anything anyone can do. He’s going to die. We just simply do not know what is wrong with him. We can’t even treat his symptoms. Everything we give him to counteract the nausea and exhaustion and starvation just makes him worse. The only people who have come up with any treatment even remotely useful are Toki and Pickles.”

Charles glanced into the main room, where Skwisgaar was lying on his side on one of the huge couches. He refused to leave the main room. He did not want to be in his bedroom or anywhere else; just here. Moving him did no good; Skwisgaar would just become upset and fretful. In the main room he was calm, where there were people around him. He was so grotesquely thin it made Charles flinch to look at him. Currently he was allowing Toki to spoon-feed him tiny amounts of cold cream with mashed blackberries in it, a little honey mixed in. It was all he could eat, though if he had more than a little at a time he would throw up. He hadn’t gained any weight eating it, but at least he hadn’t lost any either. Sitting beside Toki was Pickles, hand-feeding Skwisgaar the occasional tiny piece of chilled fruit. Everything had to be cold. Warm food did not make it all the way down his throat.

“There has to be something we can do,” said Charles.

“Well,” said Blackwood, “there’s always Dr. Gaywell.”

“May as well,” said Charles. He passed Lydia to Dr. Blackwood. “Hold this for a moment, please.”

“Certainly. Hello Lydia. Do you remember me?”

Lydia certainly did remember Dr. Blackwood. More precisely, she remembered getting a needle by him. She demonstrated her bloodlines by letting out a shriek that cut to the bone, and she refused to stop until daddy came for her. Blackwood personally didn’t think Nathan should be trusted with any infant that wasn’t battery-powered, but Lydia disagreed. As soon as Nathan had her she was happy and quiet again. However her screaming had been enough to cause Skwisgaar to throw up again. As roadies came to clean up the mess, Skwisgaar dragged his pathetically thin frame to the other end of the couch, away from the noise. Charles called the lengthy code to Dr. Gaywell’s office. He had no idea what time it was on Gaia, and he heaved a sigh of relief when Dr. Gaywell herself answered.

“Hello, Doctor? It’s Charles Ofdensen.”

“Charles! How are you and Lydia?”

“Well we’re fine, but my guitar player isn’t.”

“Charles you know I don’t deal with non-modified humans.”

“I know, but we’ve exhausted all of our other options. I wouldn’t bother you but frankly he’s dying and no one has the first idea what’s wrong with him. We’ve been to everyone from the most accredited physicians to a wise-woman in Toki’s village. We’re desperate.”

“Well if I can help I will. What are his symptoms?”

“Well he’s lost an enormous amount of weight, he’s down to bones. He’s chronically nauseous, and everything we do to make it better just makes it worse. He throws up everything, unless it’s chilled. We’ve been getting him to take cream and fruit but the cream has to be cold enough to have ice crystals in it. Even then he can throw up; if he hears a sudden loud noise he will vomit even if there is nothing in his stomach but bile. He’s frequently confused, half the time he’s not sure who we are. He’s very photophobic, we have to keep the lights down quite low or else it hurts his eyes and he will throw up. Let me think if there are any other symptoms…”

“Does he insist on returning to the same place?”

Charles blinked in surprise. “Yes. Yes he does. He won’t stay in his room, he wants to be on the couch in the main room.”

“Is he exhibiting any posturing behaviour?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s frequently seen in patients with head trauma. Curling into a foetal position, being combative…”

“I’ve noticed sometimes he will sit for a prolonged period of time with his weight resting on his right hip, and his upper body braced on his arms, his head down and he will sway or rock. Is that what you mean?”

Charles could hear her scribbling on a notepad. “Okay, I need you to do one thing for me. Turn all the lights out in the room, then tell me what his eyes look like.”

“In the dark?”

“Yes.”

“Well… all right.” Charles walked over to the couch where Skwisgaar huddled in misery, then looked to the roadies. “Could I trouble you boys to put the lights out?”

The lights were doused. The windowless main room of the huge keep was utterly black. Charles knelt before Skwisgaar, having to grope his way through the darkness to find him. He brushed aside the long hair, and gasped as he saw a glitter of blue.

“Are his eyes shining?” asked Gaywell.

“Yes, they are. It’s like they’re back-lit. It’s very disturbing.”

“Charles your guitar player has been poisoned by high dosages of mako.”

“Mako? How? That’s not even an element seen on our world.”

“I don’t know but that glare can only be caused by exposure to mako. You have to bring him to Gaia where there are people trained to deal with that or he will die. In the meantime follow his cues. Let him sit where he is comfortable. Keep the lights dim because bright light will hurt him at this point. He will be hyper-sensitive to both light and sound, and probably smells as well. Is his bedroom bright?”

“Yes, he has huge windows and most of the furnishings are white.”

“That’s why he doesn’t want to stay there. Keep him in a dimly-lit and quiet space until you can set him up a little hidey-spot on the ship, then get him here. In the meantime keep feeding him anything he will accept but make sure it is cold enough to start to freeze. I don’t know why but it helps with the nausea. In short – let him have all the popsicles he wants.”

Charles smiled slightly. “Oh he’ll hate that. Thank you, doctor, we will see you in a few days.” He closed his phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

“So what did she say?” asked Pickles.

“Well she said…” Charles turned to look at Pickles, then stopped cold as he saw the green eyes were back-lit by a strange blue flicker of light, just like Skwisgaar’s. He then looked at Toki, then Nathan, and finally Murderface. They all had that eerie flickering glare. Charles hastily dug out his phone and looked at himself in the reflective backing, and felt himself grow cold as he saw that his eyes too had the same shine, as if backlit by a candle. He felt himself go weak, and he sat back on the floor.

“Oh… shit.”