Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Du darfst mein Bestrafer Sein- Sehnsucht ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

Cid stared at the mechanical hand on the table and thanked his Bikini Goddess Vincent was right handed.

He'd promised Vincent it'd be easy, that he'd have it back in the morning. So far, all he'd managed to do was remove the case, brush some ash off, and accidentally cut himself on the sharp metal where it had been broken.

He exhaled, blowing a cloud of smoke from his nose on the offending prosthetic.

"I don't think that's going to fix it."

"I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"I never went to sleep," Vincent said, walking over to Cid.

"Bad habit."

"So's smoking,"

Cid shifted the cigarette to the other side of his mouth. "You want the long version or the short version."

"I'm not going anywhere. I can take the long version."

"Thing's fucked."

"What's the short version?"

"Sorry."

"Cid-"

"No, it's okay, it's still repairable. Sorta. Shera's better at this circuitry stuff than I am, she'll have to deal with it. It'll need a new casing. Most of the stuff at the edge is toast and will need to be replaced. And… and…"

"And?"

"Fuck it. Forget it, go back-go get some sleep."

"What is it, Cid?"

Cid sighed. Vincent didn't need this and he sure as hell didn't want to be the one to tell him. "You want it fixed, we'll need the other half."

Vincent said nothing.

"Thought so. Look, forget I said anything, we'll figure something out in the morning."

"Cid… isn't there some other way?"

"Vince, your arm isn't something I can just glue back together."

Neither one said anything for a long time. The only noise was the fridge groaning eerily.

"I need a cigarette. I'm sorry Vince. I know I promised you I'd have it fixed by morning and-Fuck, this has gotta be the worst thing to ask you now that you finally got back," Cid said, getting up from the table, not making eye contact.

"Cid--?"

Cid stopped and turned slowly.

Vincent gracelessly tore the borrowed T-shirt off himself, which left him in his boxers. "I need some help."

"Vince…" Cid managed, realizing Vincent was asking him to take the prosthetic off. He slept with it on. He showered with it on. Taking a deep breath and kicking the chair out of the way, he pulled Vincent to him. "Shit, Vince. Shit."

"I…" Vincent tried. He wrapped his good arm around Cid and sighed before trying again. "I… I already ripped a hole in my pants with this anyway."

"How many times have I told you to quit talking about things as if they're your fault?" Cid asked, keeping his arms around Vincent and kissing him on the cheek.

"I forget."

"Me too. Here. I'll help you get it off, if you'll go to bed," Cid said, letting go and gently turning Vincent around. He traced over the straps gently, trying to figure them out, hoping he could remember how to put them back on Vincent's shoulder.

Vincent flinched his shoulder away from being touched. "Only if you come too."

Cid stared at the straps and buckles, which looked more like a spiderweb every second. Not wanting to even look at it anymore, he grabbed Vincent again and put his face on Vincent's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I promise you-a real promise this time-you'll get it back."

"Cid, you're not-you don't-- You said you liked me, even with this arm. You're…"

"I'm not going to hate you with it off. I'm not going to like you any less."

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry, Vince, I haven't a clue what I'm doing." It was true. Half the time he was with Vincent he wanted to beat the crap out of everyone who made Vincent feel so miserable and worthless. The other half the time he wondered what he was doing. He knew what to do if a plane went down. He knew how to fix a broken leg. Hell, he'd had a pretty clear idea of what the hell he was doing when fighting some experiment trying to take over the world. He had no clue what to do with emotions, though. He barely knew how to deal with his own emotions, outside of kicking things. How he managed to ever cheer Vincent up out of his gloom was beyond him. How he got the guy to reciprocate his feelings and accept comfort; that had to be a miracle. But Cid didn't believe in miracles. He believed in planes and rockets. How those would help his love life he had no idea.

"Just undo the buckles. I can't reach," Vincent whispered.

Cid took his arms and head away and carefully started undoing the contraption. Neither said anything when Vincent kept flinching

After the last strap fell away, Vincent reached over to his elbow to twist and pull the prosthetic off. Cid just stood there, trying to get his mind around Vincent's shoulder. He'd never seen it bare before. He thought Vincent's left shoulder without something over it wasn't possible. To him, the concept just didn't exist. He'd seen the straps the first time he admitted he liked Vincent. He'd tried to touch them when they first tried to be romantic. He'd seen them the first time they made love.

Cid was pulled back to reality when he heard Vincent almost hyperventilating.

"Give me a minute," Vincent said, before Cid could ask anything. Vincent wasn't calming down. He kept rubbing the stub of his arm that ended just above the elbow. The stub was covered over with the same gold metal as the mechanical part of his arm. Cid had always wonder how much of Vincent's arm was real, but never asked. He'd never cared about it enough.

Careful not to touch Vincent's shoulder or arm, Cid put a finger under Vincent's chin and gently turned his face towards him. "It doesn't make any fucking difference to me." Noticing Vincent's breathing slowly returning to normal, he grabbed the shirt and offered it to Vincent, who shook his head. "Come on, let's go to bed."