Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Running out of Time ❯ Giving Up ( Chapter 8 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Jeez. Overwhelming, you guys! Okay, I'm now 50/50 on the whole “to save or not to save” deal! I dun wanna die! Or have Hojo resurrected to torture me!!! I've gotten TWO of THOSE threats… T_T. But I like a good tragedy…
 
 
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Disclaimer: FFVII ain't mine, y'hear? I only claim rights to MY plot bunnies.
 
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Running out of Time: Chapter Eight.
 
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Vincent didn't even look up as Cloud returned with his crimson cape and black shirt. When Vincent made no move to take the garments from him, Cloud just sighed and threw them over his shoulder. He was holding the metal claw in one hand. With the other, he gently hoisted Vincent and slung the gunman's arm around his other shoulder. Carefully, he led the gunman down the stairs. Tifa glanced up briefly to give Cloud a worried frown as she wiped a glass with a cloth. “Be careful,” she mouthed. Cloud nodded and went out the door. He nearly ran into Cait Sith, as the toysaurus was just about to enter the bar.
 
“Cloud! And Vincent? Where are ya goin'?”
 
Cloud quickly explained the negative turn of events; Cait agreed that moving Vincent was necessary. The robot handed the materia to Vincent, and a bag of ethers which ended up looped over Cloud's free arm.
 
“…Thanks,” Vincent whispered quietly. Cait nodded and darted in to the bar. They made their way quickly to the Fenrir. Cloud set the claw in the heavy cloth bag before helping Vincent slip the shirt and cape back on. Once they were buckled back up securely, Vincent swung his other leg over to sit on the bike. Cloud vaulted into the seat in front of Vincent, and the gunman wrapped his single arm tightly around the swordsman's waist.
 
Cloud glanced briefly at the gunman over his shoulder. “You're not gonna fall off, are you?”
 
Vincent smirked. “No. Just because one of my hands is missing doesn't mean the other one doesn't function properly. I can hold on just fine.”
Cloud nodded and revved up the engine. Tifa looked up from her spot behind the counter, watching with worried eyes as they sped away to the church.
 
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Despite Vincent's boast, by the time the church was in sight, the gunman had sagged against Cloud and his hand was slipping so badly that Cloud had to slow down so that Vincent wouldn't fall. Cloud finally slowed to a stop in front of the doors and let the engine idle for a moment.
 
“Sorry,” Vincent mumbled. “Hand is numb.” Cloud shook his head and dismounted before turning the engine off and setting the kickstand. He reached up to help Vincent down, but ended up catching him instead as the gunman slid off sideways and fell half into Cloud's arms. Cloud shook his head. Dignity be damned, he was going to CARRY Vincent inside. He didn't trust the gunman to walk. Grabbing the cloth bag of items, he slipped an arm through the handles before picking the gunman up. Cloud grunted in surprise; Vincent weighed next to nothing. True, his own mako enhancements had given him tremendous strength, but Cloud estimated that Vincent could only weigh half what a grown man should, at MOST.
 
Once inside, Cloud sat Vincent up carefully on an unbroken pew. He would have laid the gunman down, but the wounds on his back made that out of the question. Vincent's eyes were closed and he was breathing shallowly. Cloud placed a potion in his hand and the gunman uncorked it with his teeth and drank it. After a few seconds, Vincent relaxed with a sigh and opened his eyes. Taking note of his surroundings, he finally met Cloud's gaze and muttered a quiet thanks before closing his eyes again.
 
“Cloud…” Vincent whispered. The blonde walked over and sat next to the gunman on the pew. “Cloud… I think… we should plan for the worst-case scenario. This is progressing much faster than I thought it would. We need to prepare the others…” and he paused so that Cloud could let his implications sink in.
 
Vincent was giving up. Even after promising Tifa.
 
But, Cloud could ALMOST understand his reasoning. In the course of half a day, he had gone from functioning almost normally to being unable to walk or move without extreme pain. But dammit if it wasn't frustrating!
 
Vincent finally continued speaking. “If Reeve doesn't come up with a miracle within the next 48 hours, I don't stand a snowball's chance in Hell,” he whispered. Even talking was an effort, now. His lungs burned every time he drew a breath. “Cloud, even if Reeve finds some way to stop my body from deteriorating, I don't want to live with a tube stuck in my arm. I don't want to live with this kind of pain. Even if he manages to halt it, there are too many things wrong with me to make it worth staying behind,” he whispered. “Would you wish this pain on anyone, Cloud? I wouldn't. I think… You may have to just let me...” He shook his head weakly. “I died thirty-five years ago, Cloud. Everything after that was just a bonus,” he continued. “I've been living on borrowed time, but now I have to pay my debt. Cloud… when the time comes… can you let me go?”
 
Cloud shivered and looked away, trying unsuccessfully to blink away the tears. His mind wouldn't accept it.
 
“I'm so tired,” Vincent whispered. “I've waited to rest for thirty five years. Thirty five years of pain. Would you take it away from me if I decided that I wanted it? Cloud… Don't be cruel. The past twenty four hours have given me a lot of time to think…”
 
Cloud stood up abruptly and walked over to a small chest. Opening it, he pulled out a tiny glass bottle and walked back over to the gunman. Vincent could see that the bottle was filled with a sparkling red powder.
 
“Cloud… if I succumb to this, there aren't enough phoenix downs in the world to bring me back. The only thing that might have worked was Chaos, and He returned to slumber a year ago.” Vincent shook his head, already resigned to his fate. He watched Cloud with slight confusion as he realized that the blonde was shaking. Peering more carefully at Cloud's face, he saw that the swordsman was weeping openly. Vincent tried to sit up straighter, but Cloud sank down onto his knees and fell forward to embrace the gunman tightly as Tifa had done.
 
“I don't know what to do, Vincent…” Cloud whispered, closing his eyes tightly. “It's not fair!”
 
Vincent had removed the glove on his hand earlier; he now stroked the blonde man's hair with unfeeling fingers as he had seen Tifa do once to comfort a distressed Marlene. It was back when Denzel was stricken with Geostigma; Marlene was a tough little girl, but even she had had her broken moments. Vincent tried to blink away a haze that filled his vision.
 
Oh no. At first, he thought that his eyes were misting in emotion, but when the fog didn't recede, he realized that it was because the problem wasn't with faulty tear ducts. His optic nerves must be beginning to fail… His body was to the point now where his systems were beginning to slow down. Over the course of the next few days, his systems would begin to wear out, he knew, because his body could no longer maintain the alterations Hojo had made to it. Vincent knew that it wouldn't be long before all his joints would begin to ache… Frankly, he'd expected that to be one of the first things to happen.
 
“Cloud…” He whispered, moving his hand to hold the blonde tightly to him so Cloud wouldn't think Vincent was pushing him away. “Cloud… I think you should know… my vision is starting to go. I think part of it is the mako… my bloodstream is trying to purge itself, and my optic nerves are beginning to fail.” Cloud gripped the fabric of Vincent's front even more tightly.
 
“I'm sorry Vincent… maybe I am a selfish bastard, but I don't want you to go,” he whispered. Vincent sighed. Cloud wasn't going to give up even if Vincent WAS. Cloud pulled away slowly, wiping his eyes dry with the back of one hand as he reached into his pocket with another. Vincent's eyes snapped open as he felt a pleasant tingle settle all over his body. Slowly, he felt the open wounds on his shoulders finally begin to scab over. Even the pain had receded somewhat.
 
“Cloud… what did you do?”
 
Cloud smirked. “Took some of your advice. I cast ReGen. I figured part of the problem was that potions only restore lost energy in a moment; ReGen works by constantly healing you for a period of time. It's by no means a permanent fix, but it should help you function better,” Cloud explained with a slight smile. Slowly, Vincent straightened and rose to his feet. For the first time all day, he actually had something to smile about.
 
“Thank you, Cloud. It helps.” But Vincent didn't tell Cloud that the haze hadn't lifted. Hopefully, though, his body might be able to repair itself now that it finally was getting a chance to heal without drain… but somehow, Vincent doubted that that would be the case. It was still only a matter of time. He slowly walked over to stand in the patch of Aerith's flowers to look up into the sky. After all, it could be the last time he'd ever see it.
 
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End Chapter Eight! R&R! R&R to save Vincent!