Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Once a Man ❯ Homecomeing ( Chapter 3 )

AN: I have to say, it's fun to play with Hojo's vocabulary. He's almost addictive to write. I was planning on a really short, short piece, but he's just so fun that this might go on for awhile.

Once a Man

Chapter 3: Homecoming

Peace and joy reigned in my life for nearly a year after he disappeared.

I had begun a new project for Gast, some idiotic thing for improving the military attack dogs. He had some dimwitted notion for genetically fusing them with the vlakorados from the near Bone Village. I suppose if one never met a vlakorados one might be impressed with the idea, but having spent one brilliant afternoon running madly for cover from a pair of those creatures, I could instantly see the problems with that plan. The image of the attack dogs chasing soldiers around their base camp, innocent civilians becoming dog chow, and the huge pile of warning bones that would litter each military encampment made me frown on the idea.

I was merrily, and by this time slightly cynically, poking holes in Gast's master plan. The luster had dimmed from my eyes a bit as one mindlessly vicious idea after another prowled its witless way from his desk to mine.

Do experiments on civilian detainees? Gast thought that was wonderful. He didn't want them, so why not make them useful?

Reanimate the dead with micro-circuitry? Sounds like a plan. If the soldiers complain, they have living-well dead- examples of what could happen to them, and joy of all joys, we wouldn't have to give a pension to the living dead.

Genetically engineer monsters capable of wiping out all life forms in Midgar? Perfect! Why hadn't anyone thought of it sooner? Just imagine the bliss of not having to put up with those pesky people pan-handling in the streets for food.

I have to say, if I hadn't had this early breaking in period, -not to mention her gentle tutelage- I would have been more shocked at Gast's creative use for his mako reactors later. Do you really think all those monsters popping up all over were my creations? Honestly, I don't have the time. The waste products from the reactors were pumped into the indigenous water supply. Personally, I was shocked it took as long as it did for the human mutations to start showing up.

Hm? Oh, those would be the “monsters” in the pods young Strife and Sephiroth discovered in Nibelhiem. I never did know what to do with those mutations, so I'd store them in out of the way reactors till I could find a way to put them out of their misery. It was quite tricky and with the sheer number that showed up on a monthly basis, I had to have an entire research team dedicated to mutant disposal.

Well, what did you think I did with them? Hire them as cleaning staff?

So I sat idly poking holes in Gast's pet project when he made a reappearance in my life. Oh, I'd seen him around, lurking here, looming forebodingly there during my lunch breaks in the cafeteria. I suppose he had to fit as much gloomy stalking in as he could during his spare moments; being the head of the Turks was a time consuming job. This time he had the decency not to cause me bodily injury as he slunk into my office like a cloud of menacing doom. I was, after my first stint of his bubbly presence, somewhat immune to his ominous hovering, and that day, I had a job to do, so I concentrated on my task as he loomed around my office.

It was actually entertaining. He hates being the first one to talk, believing that the first to speak is at a disadvantage. I thought it was the most boneheaded thing I ever heard when he explained it to me later, but since I was trying to maneuver him into spending a weekend with me in Mideel when he disclosed that little trinket of wisdom, I kept my mouth shut. I had my priorities and getting him into a sunny, warm, semi-private place where I could, as they so quaintly say now, jump his bones, was high on my list.

So he slunk around and I read my report.

I was in the middle of composing my response and recommendations, when he finally got tired of trying to wait me out.

“You're presence is required in Bone Village.” He finally said with all the warmth and enthusiasm of a mortician breaking the news dear Uncle Roland had accidentally been alive when he's been embalmed.

I groaned inwardly. Of all the places on the Planet, Bone Village. “I'm rather busy. I have this project that Professor Gast has declared a top priority.”

Okay, I was lying through my teeth, but fusing vlakorados DNA to canine DNA certainly beat the hell out of staying in a skull and listening to Ice Pack Sammy. I crumpled my original response up and mentally started composing another about the wonderful benefits canine-vlakorados crosses would do for army fitness. Just imagine how fit and fleet our soldiers would be after a month of running for their lives from their loyal attack dog-lizards?

“They found an abnormality in the strata.” He chattered on in the same bright, cheery tone as before.

“I could send a team up there.” I ambled over and tossed my report into a handy Bunsen burner flame. “I'm sure they could handle any abnormal fossils that get unearthed.”

“It isn't a fossil.” My font of information was just bursting at the seams.

“A rock?” I picked up a fresh report form and sat down to merrily rubber stamp Gast's moronic idea.

He sighed. I was somewhat conversant at this point in Vincent Sigh Language. This sigh meant I hate my job, but I hate you more. I felt a warm glow of satisfaction hearing it.

“A life form.” Another sigh, this one meaning do me a favor and drop dead of natural causes so I won't get blamed for your much anticipated death. My day was made.

“A worm?” I filled out the first few lines of the report. “A large mole?”

“They aren't sure. That is why President Shinra and Professor Gast have decided to send you to investigate.” Another sigh. Translation: I'll probably regret not killing you shortly. “I will be coming with you.”

I crumpled my new report with a feeling of utter and complete dread. Bone Village was not a wondrous place to be, but being there with him? I wondered if he'd shoot me and put me out of my misery if I asked nicely. Probably not, he'd keep me alive just to see me suffer the horror of getting hugged by a sweaty, mud-coated archeologist.

“We will be leaving in an hour.” He intoned dourly and bounded out of my office with all the light-hearted joy of a sewer sweeper on his way to work.

Ah well, nothing like advanced warning. I splurged and took a taxi home and quickly packed my bags, being sure to pack a small portable heater, books, a pocket video- music player I'd picked up that stored and played hundreds of songs and movies, a couple of extra thick blankets, pillows, a inflatable camping mattress pad, food, tea, and mountains of warm clothes. Only Shinra knew when I'd be released from Bone Village and Vincent, so I prepared for the worst. I was lumbering my over-packed way back to my office, dragging my luggage behind me when he reappeared.

Again, he was silent, just glaring at my stack of luggage then nodding to me and indicating I should proceed him. If I was arrogant, I would point out that they had a private helicopter waiting for me. However, things being as they were, the private helicopter was actually waiting for him, and I was along for the ride. Heading up the Turks did have a few perks such as private helicopters, upscale accommodations in civilized areas, and ability to fuck the assistant director of Shinra Research and Development Department without having it the gossip of every bored secretary in the building. Of all the perks, I never realized how wonderful the last was till he was gone and my sex life became the subject of every moronic mail-boy and paper pusher in the building, and seeing that there are an ungodly amount of those people in Shinra's main office, I honestly felt that all of Midgar knew if I so much as glanced at a woman.

He, as you could probably guess, didn't exactly liven the trip up with witty conversation and amusing bantering. He sat going through paperwork for the entire trip. I was prepared and had my earphones in and was sprawled on my seat watching a movie moments after we took off. I'm sure I garnered a few sighs, but I was already entertained, so I left him to sigh away the trip while I watched some movie about an ancient Wutain war.

Yes, if you must know I could have been doing work, but I decided that spending time in Bone Village with a surly Turk was enough work. I didn't feel like whipping out papers, which had been strategically left behind sitting innocently in my in-box, or, worse, initiating conversation with him. It was really only delaying the inevitable. The paper would still be sitting in by in-box, waiting and multiplying till I returned, and, in the end, I would have to talk to him.

Bone Village never changes. I don't even think the people change. A few outsiders, like me, might come in and stay for awhile to do some research, but most people flee the area after one night, leaving it for more entertaining, warmer, and cleaner places. Only the natives stay, and they always look the same. If someone came to me today and said the people at Bone Village were immortal, I would probably just nod. Personally, I think they've been freeze dried.

The first moment of pure unadulterated joy was when we landed in Bone Village and went to the inn. Bone Village's inn is, of course, a huge skeleton. The lobby of the inn is the skull and is presided over by Bettina Herrington. You might want to take special note of the fish in her name, because that's what sweet Bettina smelled like, a herring. Over the years that I had the honor of residing in Bone Village, I had picked up a few survival skills, such as holding my breath when Bettina hugged me. Seeing that Bettina is a loving person who believes in expressing her affection with physical displays, this skill was a well practiced one.

When we entered the lobby, Bettina recognized me and gave a whoop. “You're back!”

And she gave me a hug, which, as I pointed out, I was familiar with and dutifully held my breath till I was clear of the danger zone.

“You look good, Bettina.” I smiled at her from my safe distance. And she did look good. She was one of those lucky women who aged slowly and beautifully, gradually fading from youthful prettiness, to mature attractiveness, and finally to an aged grace. The fish smell however was a huge detractor, so Bettina remained tragically single.

“You are a charmer, Hojo, a real charmer.” She shook her head fondly at me. “I think Davies still has your place. Why don't you head over there and see.”

That didn't surprise me. The real estate business in Bone Village wasn't just dead, it was decomposing. I could probably still go up there and settle into my boney bivouac and all that would be said is that it took me long enough to sweep the front step.

“I'll go over and see him.” I would too. Bone Village Inn wasn't as comfortable as a skull, which should tell you something about the accommodations. “But my associate here needs a room.”

She then noticed Vincent lurking behind me.

You can put together what happened from here. Single Bettina…stunningly beautiful Vincent… I just stepped aside and let nature take its course. Seeing Mr. Dark, Efficient, and Depressing suddenly reeling from the overpowering herring hug of Bettina Herrington was like witnessing divine retribution. I basked in its glow for awhile then mercifully saved him by asking where Davies was.

She told me his location then escorted -read dragged- the now wary Vincent off to his rooms. I took my luggage pile and went off to find Davies. He was the head foreman at Bone Village, and had his fingers into everything. Being that he was also a rather capable administrator and a good man, this had never seemed like a problem. Considering some of the other people who might replace him, it was actually a very good thing.

I was back in my long missed skull in moments. I had closed it up tight and it only took a short time to clean and settle back in. It was a one room skull with a small kitchen to one side with a stove pipe sticking out one earhole, a table with a few bleached bone chairs in the center, and a bed tucked in the back behind a dusty curtain, and a fireplace was at the other side of the skull with its flue sticking out the other earhole. A small door where the vertebrae once connected to the skull led into a microscopic bath where you could sit on the toilet, brush your teeth, and take a shower all at the same time. My furniture was still sitting where I had left it. My pots, pans, plates and battered tin cups were all dusty but present. A few cans of food lurked in the back of the cabinets like small furtive animals. It was like I'd never left.

Yippee.

In a short period of time, I was settled back into an old chair made of fossilized bones with my heater humming merrily away, a fire snapping in the fireplace, a pot of tea steeping on the stove, my bed made into a warm nest of pillows and thick blankets, and my little music player merrily playing popular tunes in the background. I have never really loved traveling by helicopter. The constant hum of the motors and the sound of the propellers wicking through the air makes my nerves feel raggedy and jangled for hours after, so a little rest was called for before I headed off to find out what thing the imbecilic diggers had found that had gotten Gast worked up enough to send me and the head of the Turks to literally cool our heels in Bone Village.

After a few moments, I realized my life would be simpler if I just invited Davies over for dinner. I had to get a few groceries from the general store which also doubled as Davies' office, so I could invite him then. We could have drinks, eat, catch up on all the latest news, and he could tell me what had been found, all with as little time spent in Bone Village's balmy climate as possible. I shrugged into a warm coat and went shopping. On the way back, I realized I should probably include Vincent in my dinner arrangements, so I went to the inn to see if he would do me the honor of attending my little get-together and add his own special magical presence to my evening.

I don't know what he was expecting, but rooms made of canvas hung from dinosaur bones with unadorned wood floors, a folding cot with a few thin blankets on it, a useless kerosene heater, and an old metal footlocker for a bed stand/dresser was not apparently what he'd been anticipated. I could hear his teeth chattering as I walked down the rustling canvas hall to his room.

“Mr. Valentine?” I called since the canvas door lacked anything to politely knock on. “I hate to disturb you, but I've asked Davies to come over for dinner to discuss their find.”

His lips were turning a light shade of blue when he opened his “door” to look at me. Now all my snippy remarks aside, I didn't hate the man. He had been an annoyance in my life while he'd been assigned to me, but he hadn't asked for the assignment. Despite his lurking, he'd been nothing less than considerate, polite, and even, on occasion, helpful. Compared to other Turks, he'd been rather pleasant during our brief association. Over the years, I've had Turks who were little more than mindless thugs that bullied and used physical violence on me to keep me “protected” and others that were obsessive compulsive organizers that rearranged and regimented my entire life to fulfill their security priorities (couch, cough…Tseng…cough, ahem) . Vincent's hovering and dourness was quite pleasant when compared to them.

“What time?” He was shivering so badly that I doubted that if someone were to attack he'd be able to do more than clumsily get in their way.

It wasn't long after we became intimate that he explained that Shinra policy forbade him from even adding a thin layer of silk thermals to his uniform. Some idle pencil-jockey had decided that all Turks had to be able to move with maximum efficiency at all times, so no modifications to the standard uniform were tolerated. Living in Midgar, a Turk's uniform may inspire fear in the masses, but the Turk is, in general, either freezing or near dead from heat exhaustion depending on the weather. If you wonder why Turks have a reputation for being short tempered and loitering in bars, all I can say is you would too if you had to wear that uniform.

“Why don't you come over now, and we can discuss things before he comes.” Honestly, there was little to discuss, but I wasn't a cold hearted bastard back then, and watching someone I knew fall into hypothermia wasn't something I wanted to stand around and witness.

He gave a jerky nod and followed after me. We trundled back through the village. I nodded at a few old friends and called a few greetings. Vincent tried to not look like he was about to pass out from the cold, and trudged stoically behind me.

When we got to my now warm and toasty skull, he almost died of joy. I left him to hug the heater in a desperate attempt to get warm and started opening cans for our repast. I never claimed to be a cook. I doubted that Davies would complain, and my shivering Turk would be grateful for anything that was warm. He really was rather…lost.

When he was guarding me in Midgar, we had been on his turf. He knew the city better than I did. He was the top of the food chain on the street. He knew every road, back alley, and crawl space in the city. He had held the power. But now he was in Bone Village. There were no back alleys. The criminal element had long ago frozen into the permafrost. The vlakorados were to top of the food chain, and I knew how to survive here better than he did.

Oh, I'm not saying he was anything less than the epitome of a Turk. I had no doubts that he'd turn deadly if given the right provocation. He was, and even today is, the perfect killer. He also has something that few other Turks have ever been able to claim -no matter what babble she taught him to believe- humanity. In a way, that makes him even more dangerous.

A Turk is easy to spot, there is a deadness to their eyes that they cannot hide. If you want to feel fear, sit across from Tseng and watch his eyes. The absolute lack of anyone behind them is guaranteed to send terror shooting through your nervous system. Rude, with his ever present sun glasses, hides this defect behind them. Reno uses his garish hair and outrageous behavior to draw attention away from the fact that the person, Reno, is and has been dead for a long time. Elena, the newest member of the Turks still has an occasional flash of aliveness, but it won't last. I give her another year and even those flashes will stop. Vincent though sometimes somber, depressing, pedantic, and gloomy is always there, alive and well, living and breathing. The fact that he can be there and yet turn and coolly kill with no hint of remorse is far more frightening then Tseng's blankness.

Well, ready to strike or not, he was now a shivering wreck. As I set the soup on to boil and poured us both cups of tea, I considered my associate. If I had been as sadistic as people claim, I would have kicked him back to his room to freeze that night -if you believe some of them, they'd tell you I probably slipped some illicit science experiment into his tea and then stood back to watch him mutate. However, I hadn't learned to be that cruel yet, and I was low on mutating serums.

…that was a joke… Get it? You can laugh now… no…why am I not surprised? Honestly, the things people believe…

I handed him his tea. “Mr. Valentine, I was thinking. It might be better if you stayed the night with me.”

He looked at me carefully. Later, it would occur to me how that sounded and who he was. This time I'm not referring to Vincent the Turk, but Vincent the man with a beautiful face and a long, lithe body that nearly screamed, “Fuck me, someone!”

He even told me about it once. We were standing under an awning waiting out a sudden Midgarian downpour, watching people scamper to shelter. He was flicking water off his sleeve and playfully spattering it at me. I retaliated by wringing my hair out and drying my hands on his back.

“You really were clueless.” He smirked managing to flick water in my face. “Cute, but clueless.”

Only he ever said I was cute. The best complement I'd ever gotten before or after him was that I was distinguished, and that had been from my mother. Believe me, when you are seven and even your mother can only come up with you looking distinguished, you know you're not going to win the local beauty pageant. He never seemed to notice though. To him, I was beautiful. He loved slipping his fingers down my face, tracing curves and bones, smiling softly as if seeing something infinitely precious.

“Me? Clueless?” I wiped off my face and gave my hair a toss making sure it smacked wetly against his arm. “When have I ever been clueless?”

“Bone Village, that first night.” He looked down and almost slyly tried to polish one muddy shoe on my pant leg. Almost. “Asking me to stay the night.”

“I was trying to be nice.” I stepped out of his way, frustrating his shoe polishing move. “I could have let you freeze.”

“Hmmm.” He gave up, sighed (translation: I'm a vain creature and you're spoiling my playtime) and took out a pristine white handkerchief to clean his shoes. “I figured that out, but can you guess how many times that day I'd been asked to spend the night?”

I eyed him already knowing at least part of the answer. “Don't tell me, Bettina?”

“There was a reason I had no heat in my room.” He finished his preening and offered me the cloth then put it away when I shook my head. “Then there was the maid, the bell hop, the man in the room down the hall, the pilot, a couple of men at the store where I went to find a heater…”

I shook my head and slipped under his arm giving him a hug and a playful grope. “My poor, beautiful, picked on Vincent. How you suffer. Come home with me and spend the night and I'll protect you from all those wicked people who only want to use that sexy body of yours.”

He pretended to be the innocent, acting like my hand wasn't fondling one firm butt cheek. “You won't take advantage of me will you?”

“You bet your sweet ass I'll take advantage.”

He kissed me there under the awning, in the rain, laughing against my mouth.

Can you blame me if at times all I can do is retreat away from everyone and scream?

In Bone Village, I wondered why he was taking so long to answer my question and was just going to take to offer back when he nodded.

“It would be more convenient.” He glanced unhappily at the door, obviously thinking of going back out and freezing again. “Where can I find a cot?”

“I'll ask Davies for one. He runs the store.” I nearly missed the leery look he gave me as I turned back to the stove to stir the soup.

“Do you trust this Davies?” He nearly snuggled against the heater sipping his tea like it was ambrosia.

I nodded, “I've known him for years. He's a good man.”

He nodded and settled down to sit by the heater lapsing back into his usual silence after his bout of abnormal talkativeness. As I fished out some old tin bowls and washed them, he actually looked like he was dozing. At the time I figured all that conversation wore him out. Now, I know he was just closing his eyes to let his hearing stretch out around him. He's got sharp ears and when in a situation where walls get in the way of his line of sight, he will often close his eyes, quiet his breathing, and listen. I didn't know that then, and not wanting to exhaust him completely with more conversing, I kept quiet and stirred the soup.

A few moments later, Vincent snapped to his feet and looked suspiciously at the door. I was just going to ask him what the matter was when Davies knocked. Vincent jittered around, reluctant to leave the joy of heat, but needing to fulfill his duties as a Turk.

“It's just Davies.” I walked by him to the door. He lurked suspiciously behind me and I was relieved to see that he'd de-thawed enough to return to his normal self.

Davies was always welcome company. He was jovial, talkative, and had a fine sense of humor. The three of us sat down for dinner and the two of us talked. Vincent ate and skulked. He mainly skulked by the heater, so he didn't dampen our mood. We chattered about the people we knew, the latest gossip from Midgar, scientific advances, archeology, and any other topic that wandered too close to our wandering minds. Finally, seeing that Vincent was lurking more purposefully, I brought the subject around to where I knew he wanted it to be.

“So, just what did you find that's got everyone so excited?” We had long ago broken into my newly purchased supply of red wine and Davies and I were beginning to feel the effects.

“Damned if I know.” He shook his head. “Creepy thing. Looks like a blob of goo and tends to ooze around. I've got it in an old pickle jar in the back of the store.”

“A pickle jar?” Gast was going to have fits over that. I just found it funny.

Davies nodded. “Didn't know what else to do with the thing. Some of the boys keep finding bits of it, so we just toss them in there.”

And that was Jenova's introduction to the modern world. Some of the boys kept finding bits of her and tossing her into a pickle jar. To think, she'd try to destroy it later. Maybe she held a grudge.

Vincent shifted from lurking to edgy, so I sighed at him (Translation: Okay, okay, I'll ask him.)

“Could you bring it over here? I'd like to take a look at it.” I then nodded to my Turk who had cautiously gone back to lurking about the heater. “Also, can you send over a cot and blankets.”

Davies shrugged. “Sure. No problem.”

The rest of the dinner was pleasant. Vincent settled down to quiet brooding. Davies and I finished the bottle of wine, and afterwards both the specimen and the cot arrived. I put the specimen on the table where it oozed slimily around its pickle jar and Vincent set up the cot next to the fireplace. I could make a few more snarky remarks about his dependence on heat, but it honestly was an excellent spot for him to be. If anything, or anyone, tried to get into the skull, the first thing they'd meet would be an annoyed Turk.

We settled down in our respective beds and spent our first night together. As I drifted off listening to Vincent's soft breathing, I never realized how precious that sound would become to me.

 

Please review. I know this is an unpopular pairing, so I'm not expecting loads of reviews, but I do appreciate the encouragement and feedback. Thanks!