Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Running out of Time ❯ Falling Fast ( Chapter 6 )

Augh…… So… many… people… telling me not to kill Vincent. But… I haven't changed my mind. Not YET. But now I'm scared that I'm going to get murdered…

 

To semeru, Gismo, and One Winged Cetra- your opinions have been duly noted. Glad y'all like the story so far. -hugs-

 

Chaxra-san- Yep. But it's not stamina- that's MAKO. And it wasn't a very BIG bottle… And I am aware that you are just itching for Vinny's untimely death. So am I, dear, so am I. I just have all these people giving me death threats and the like… So I have an idea that works both ways. You'll all find out in the next to last chapter…. Whenever that is. I have absolutely no idea how long I can drag this story out without sacrificing quality. Maybe a few more chapters, maybe a dozen more. I don't know.

 

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Disclaimer: I'm broke. I own NOTHING. Except my plot bunnies.

 

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Running out of Time: Chapter Six

 

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After Cloud walked out the door, Vincent began the slow and arduous journey up the stairs. He tripped over his boots at one point and began muttering a steady stream of colorful and creative cursing as he climbed up step by painful step. He finally reached the top platform, regretting his ill-considered decision to go out on their little excursion earlier that day. The exertion was taking its toll on his body. More than once, he had to choke back the sharp metallic tang of blood on his way to the upstairs guestroom. He stopped briefly at the hall closet to withdraw the entire stack of spare blankets.

 

Vincent finally reached the guestroom and laid the blankets on the bed. Moving back into the hall, he made his way to the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face; his skin had begun to burn unpleasantly at some point within the past few hours. With unease, he noted that Cloud had been serious when he'd said that Vincent was paler than usual; there was absolutely no color to his flesh, except, perhaps, an unhealthy grey tinge. One would think he'd never seen the light of day. But then Vincent picked up some new changes; his eyes were dull, the once brilliant crimson dimmed to a dark burgundy that seemed almost… lifeless. Ugh. His lips were dry and cracked, still touched with a faint hint of blue. His skin almost seemed to have a bloodless, waxy texture to it. His hair was dull, and he could see that several more of his roots had gone silver. Sweat shone in a thin sheen on his skin. He looked downright… dilapidated. His claw was aching again, too. With a sigh, he returned to the room.

 

After much debate, Vincent decided to remove the prosthetic limb. It was doing more harm than good, and the skin around the metal retainer ring was red and irritated; the bloody wound from earlier was still oozing slightly. He snapped the joint up and back. After the mechanism released with a metallic click, he set it on the bedside table. It would hurt like a mother when he tried to put it back on, but he'd rather not put the extra strain on his body tonight. After steeling himself, he poured a potion directly on the inflamed skin. It hurt like hell, but the magic acted quickly and far more effectively this way. Finally satisfied that it would not bother him again that night, Vincent began undoing the buckles on his cape one-handed; a skill he had perfected over the years. He let it fall, too weary to hang it up properly. After removing his boots, he decided that it would be better not to undress further. With his internal thermostat screwed up, it would be wise to retain as much body heat as possible. He turned down the bed before piling the blankets on top of it. Lying down, he gazed at the ceiling until his earlier weariness overtook him and he fell into a dreamless slumber.

 

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He woke the next morning to a gentle touch on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, immediately fully alert. But the person who greeted him was not Cloud, as he had been expecting almost hopefully. Cait Sith bounced excitedly off of the bed and down to the floor beside him as Vincent rolled fluidly off the mattress and onto his feet. Cait handed him the red cape; the robot had also moved his boots at some point so that they now rested beside the bed, neatly placed so that they were ready to slip on.

 

Cait waited until Vincent's wardrobe adjustments were complete before speaking up. “Cloud told me everything last night, Vincent. I'm working on the problem right now. I must say, this is rather abrupt. Vincent, I'm going to try my hardest to help you, but I'm not sure that there's much I can do with so little time to work with,” Reeve explained via Cait. The robot drooped dejectedly. “I'm sorry I can't be more help to ya, Vincent! But I think you should talk to Tifa. She'll understand. After all, she and Cloud dealt with Geostigma for a while; they both have experience battling incurable diseases! I know this isn't a disease, but surely they can help!”

 

Vincent grunted noncommittally at the suggestion. He wasn't keen on the idea of burdening anyone else with his problems. But Cait wasn't done.

 

“Vincent, Cloud told me you were planning on going to Nibelheim to get the Cure materia, but I have one that you can borrow. AND… It's mastered, so there's no need for you to do any unnecessary traveling!” The robot grinned smugly. “Ethers aren't that expensive, so I don't mind going and getting some for you!”

 

Vincent mumbled his thanks and the robot darted out of the room. Vincent sat back down on the bed with a pained grimace. He didn't feel particularly worse… but he didn't feel any better, either. The scars on his shoulders were beginning to ache dully, a sure sign that they, too would soon become yet another ailment that would need tending to. He sighed. They were so awkward to deal with. He had trouble reaching them properly. He took out another potion and drank it. It helped, but only a little. Vincent was getting the feeling that there weren't enough potions in the WORLD to fix HIS screwed up body.

 

Eyeing the metal claw with distaste, Vincent procrastinated about reattaching it by awkwardly making up the bed. It was difficult to do with only one hand, and it served as a good distraction. That was how Cloud found him as he walked in through the guestroom door.

 

Glancing up, Vincent smirked as Cloud sighed in relief. “What… Were you worried I wasn't going to be here when you came back?”

 

Cloud scratched the back of his head with a sheepish shrug. “Well… truth be told, I spent half the night worrying that I was gonna come back and find you'd tripped down the stairs and broken your neck… or something,” Cloud admitted, grinning apologetically. “I can't help it. I'm scared to death for you, Vincent.”

 

Vincent slowly straightened and turned to meet Cloud's eyes; the blonde's face was a study of mixed emotions, with an aching helplessness, fear, and grief predominating. The swordsman's eyes were overly bright, and from more than just mako. Cloud's voice broke on the next words.

 

“I don't want to lose you, Vincent. I…” he faltered, fixing his gaze on the floor. “I know… back when we were fighting Sephiroth… we went through every day knowing that one or all of us could die at any moment… but that's over, now.” He raised his head to look Vincent desperately in the eyes. “And I've grown used to that fact. Maybe back then it was fine, because I'd resign myself to the knowledge that there was nothing I could DO about it, but not any more. I can't deal with it! Maybe I'm just weak…” he whispered, “but I can't handle the thought any more of any one of my friends getting hurt for whatever reason. It's not an occupational hazard any more. There's no more fighting, so nobody should have to die!”

 

Cloud's eyes shone fiercely as he gripped Vincent's shoulders like a lifeline. “Vincent, I don't know if I could handle it if you or Tifa or Barret or Cid or even Yuffie or ANYONE I cared about disappeared out of my life!” His voice cracked on the last word and he seemed to crumple, letting his despair show at last. With utter dejection, he drew away from Vincent, wrapping his arms around himself. “I don't want to be alone. Not anymore. You guys are all I've got,” he whispered brokenly.

 

Vincent remained silent, not quite sure what to say to that. Finally, he reached forward to lay his hand awkwardly on Cloud's shoulder.

 

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. Even if Vincent wasn't necessarily opposed to the thought of finally being able to rest… it was more important to him that he didn't hurt his friends. Even if it meant living longer than he wanted to with the pain of his twisted body, he didn't want to give his friends cause to grieve. He'd hurt enough people already. But this was beyond his control; Vincent didn't think he would be able to prevent this particular tragedy.

 

Cloud reached up briefly to touch the hand on his shoulder, then shook himself and straightened as though the exchange had never happened. That was when he noticed that the metal claw was missing from Vincent's arm. Looking around in confusion, he spotted it lying on the table. “Vincent? What happened?” He gestured to the absent forearm.

 

Vincent shrugged. “The wound was becoming irritated, so I removed it to reduce the strain on my body. Besides,” he murmured, “Locomotion in the hand was becoming painful enough that it might as well be useless. So I removed it. Cait Sith was in here earlier,” he said, blatantly changing the subject.

 

Cloud nodded. “Yeah, I passed him in the hall. I know, I told him to come up and check on you if I wasn't here by breakfast. How do you feel?” He asked with concern.

 

Vincent smiled THAT smile again. “Absolutely terrible. You were expecting to hear anything different? But not any worse.” Cloud gave a wry grin.

 

Stretching with a groan, the swordsman turned to gaze out the small window. “Reeve told me via Cait that there might be something in Junon…” he began quietly, “though Hojo didn't spend much time there while he worked on the Chaos project. However, it was one of ShinRa's major military HQs, so who knows what we might find there? He's already sent people to start searching. YOU shouldn't be doing any traveling, Vincent,” he told the gunman firmly. Vincent grunted noncommittally. “I mean it, Vincent!”

 

Vincent scowled but shrugged his compliance. “Thanks.”

 

Cloud just shrugged it off. “It's nothing. I told you, we're going to do everything we can for you.”

 

Vincent closed his eyes, grateful. “Cait said that I should talk to Tifa. Because she dealt with you and the kids when you had the Geostigma.”

 

Cloud hummed thoughtfully. “Actually, I agree. Tifa is cool-headed. She, myself, Reeve, and perhaps Nanaki and Shelke are the only ones I would trust not to overreact, though. Even I can see that it'd be a bad idea to let… oh, somebody like Yuffie find out until we know more about your condition.” Vincent gave a dry chuckle. The hyperactive child would undoubtedly go into hysterics if she got wind of this.

 

Cloud nodded as if coming to some internal decision. “I'm going to get Tifa. Wait here,” he muttered before striding out of the room. Vincent sat back down on the edge of the bed as though not quite sure what to do with himself. He decided to gaze idly out of the window until Cloud's return. He spent the time firmly imprinting the image in his mind. Every little detail he'd never bothered to take in before, because he'd never had the time. The clouds were so and the trees were so and the sky was just this shade of blue. The sunlight felt warm on his face. He could see dozens of people walking to and fro, going about their lives cheerfully oblivious. He turned around, startled, as Cloud walked back into the room with Tifa trailing behind.

 

Reluctantly, Vincent turned away from the window to face them. Tifa gazed at him with concern for a moment before speaking.

 

“Cloud says you're sick, Vincent… but he didn't explain. He said he didn't have the right. So will you tell me yourself?”

 

Vincent looked away. “I'm not sure where to start, but… I guess I first noticed that something was wrong several days ago…”

 

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End chapter six! Sorry, but I didn't feel like writing Vincent's account of things all over again, and I figured you readers wouldn't appreciate having to read it twice, either. So I'll cut it off here, for now. R&R! Especially if you don't want me to kill Vincent. Or if you DO. I haven't decided how it's going to end, but I think it will depend largely on you reviewers!!!