Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Ice ❯ An Unknown Power ( Chapter 11 )

--Means one of Vincent's demons is speaking to him—

 

Chapter 11: The Unknown Power

 

Cloud's eyes had widened considerably. He had never thought that Vincent would ever actually intend to hurt him, or even draw his weapon. He took an unconscious step back even as he released his hold on the gunman's shoulder. He put up his arms in a surrendering gesture. Even he couldn't survive a hit in the temple from one of Vincent's powerful guns.

 

The dark haired man had closed his eyes, looking as if he was fighting an internal battle. Cloud could tell that the grip the gunman had was tighter than it should be. The slightest thing might set him off. Speaking softly and calmly, Cloud hoped to at least get him to lower the gun.

 

“Um, Vincent, I think-“

 

“They tell me to kill you,” Vincent said in a voice barely above a whisper. The gun wavered in his grasp and his eyes had yet to open. “They tell me to pull the trigger.”

 

Everyone in the inn and bar had turned their attention to the pair. Most held their breath in anticipation, guessing that blood would be shed at any moment. Some had already edged their way to the door, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

 

--He insulted you, he must die. He doesn't know what it means to fear you. Wouldn't his blood look nice splattered along the walls?--

 

--In fact, everyone's blood would look better out of their bodies rather than in.--

 

--Kill him, kill them all! Let them know your pain! Show them our true power!!--

 

Vincent shook his head, trying to get rid of the screaming voices of the demons within him. He didn't understand why they chose that time to suddenly start making suggestions all at once. It seemed lately that they had gotten louder and stronger in him. Usually he could drown them out, ignore them, or even make them stop. It wasn't working.

 

He tried to force his body to move, heading for the stairs. Maybe if he just got Cloud out of sight, the anger that was building in him would cease and so would the bloodthirsty mutterings of the demons.

 

It was then that the innkeeper decided to play the hero. Where he had dug up the sudden courage from… well, even the balding heavyset man was unsure. He trod nervously up towards where Vincent and Cloud were standing, the blond at gunpoint.

 

“Excuse me, sirs, but I cannot have this sort of behavior in my inn,” the man mumbled, clearing his throat nervously.

 

Vincent's eyes snapped open at the sudden unfamiliar voice, but Cloud had maintained his own concentration. Taking that brief second of distraction as the only chance he would get, he sprang forward, pushing away Vincent's gun arm even as he tackled the gunman to the ground. The gun went off as Vincent squeezed reflexively, the bullet skimming Cloud's cheek, barely avoiding the innkeeper before slamming into the wall behind them.

The innkeeper stared at them horrified, backing away quickly. His face had paled considerably and a thought entered his mind. `Perhaps he should have left well enough alone.' At the sound of the gunshot, the rest of the patrons decided that it was time to go and scattered.

 

Vincent and Cloud crashed to the floor, the blond landing on top of the gunman. It was not a soft landing as the thinner raven-haired man was crushed beneath Cloud's small but bulky weight. His head slammed into the thick wooden floor hard, momentarily making him see stars. The gun clattered out of his hand, sliding across the floor.

 

Cloud grabbed hold of the ex-Turk arms, hoping to restrain him. He had a feeling that the dark-haired man was much stronger than him, but he knew he had to do something. There had been a wild look in his eyes that Cloud did not trust.

 

“Uhhnn…” Vincent groaned. His head was pounding and it seemed like his vision was blurry. He could still hear them- Death Gigas, Hellmasker, Chaos, and Galian Beast- but it seemed their voices were dimming.

 

“You better pray to whatever you serve that I don't kill you now,” Cloud snarled. He pushed down harder on Vincent's arms, slamming his wrist and claw into the floor.

 

“Get off me, Strife,” Vincent growled, trying to throw the seemingly smaller blond off of him. But Cloud wasn't moving.

 

Cloud shook his head. “No. I don't trust what you will do.”

 

“Oh, for heaven's sake, Strife; I'm not going to kill you.” Vincent rolled his eyes in irritation.

 

“Coulda fooled me.”

 

“I cannot breathe,” the ex-Turk stated breathlessly, his voice taking on a slightly desperate tone.

 

“How do I know you won't go all ballistic on me again?” the blond countered.

 

Vincent narrowed his gaze at Cloud, glaring at him intently. “You are just going to have to trust me.”

 

Cloud looked doubtful for a moment, remembering the feeling of looking down the barrel of a gun. Then again, it did seem as if Vincent was struggling to control something deep inside him. He did not understand anything that was going on. Could he take a chance?

 

Sighing heavily, Cloud reluctantly released the gunman and got up, trying not to hurt him more. Vincent glared at him from on the floor as he tried to sit up. Cloud held out a hand to help him up, surprising the man with that act.

 

There was a moment where Vincent only stared, unsure of what to expect. Finally he took the offered help and was pulled to his feet. He and Cloud locked eyes as if deciding what the other was going to do.

 

“This doesn't change the fact that I want to know what is going on,” Cloud muttered.

 

Vincent opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly felt very weak. It was an unnerving feeling. His limbs felt tired, as if he had spent the last few hours running through an intense training regime. “I-“ he managed to get out, before dropping to the floor, falling to one knee. He held his head in his right hand, groaning audibly.

 

There was something happening. He didn't understand it… wasn't sure what to expect…

 

“Vincent?” asked Cloud, taking a step forward, concern evident in the tone of his voice.

 

“Don't touch me!” hissed the gunman, holding out a hand to ward Cloud away. He knew the propensity the others had for touching those they were concerned about and was sure Cloud was no different.

 

Cloud drew up short, but then seemed to reconsider. He took another step forward.

 

There was a creak on the stairs, drawing the blond's attention.

 

“I would listen to him for once Cloud, he gets mighty pissy when you touch him and he doesn't want you to.” It was Cid. Apparently he had left his room for some reason and had come back downstairs.

 

By that point, the only person left in the common room was the innkeeper. Most of the patrons had managed to sneak away or flee when Vincent and Cloud had first started to argue.

 

“I thought you were asleep,” Cloud commented quietly.

 

Cid shrugged. “Yeah well, with all the noise you two were making down here I couldn't help but be interested. How was I to know that you would be attempting to kill each other?”

 

Vincent groaned then, sounding feral and very unhuman-like. Two pairs of blue eyes turned towards him. He was struggling to get up, as if someone had pressed a heavy weight on his back. The gunman was moving awkwardly, jerkily, as if someone else was controlling his body and he was merely a puppet on strings.

 

“What the hell? Vince?” the pilot questioned, looking to his friend in concern.

 

The raven-haired gunman did not answer, merely stood completely to his feet. His hands fell at his sides seemingly useless. His lips moved soundlessly and his eyes were closed.

 

“What the hell is going on, Cid?” Cloud demanded.

 

“How the fuck should I know? Do I look like a scientist?”

 

Cloud rolled his eyes angrily and returned his attentions to the oddly acting gunman. “Vincent?” he asked, tentatively taking a step forward.

 

At the sound of his name, Vincent's eyes snapped open, gleaming with an unnatural glow, nothing at all like the normal slight mako luminescence they usually had. The air around him began to pulsate, taking on a dark almost black look. It started to gather around close to his body. He grinned at them, showing elongated and pointed front teeth.

 

Cloud shook his head. “I don't like the looks of this. It is almost like his limit break.” He reached behind him, for the sword sheathed on his back. If he had to, he would do whatever it took to stop Vincent. Yet, all the while his mind was screaming at him, in a voice that suspiciously sounded like Barret, “See I told you so. He really is a &%$#& fucking vampire.”

 

“But that's impossible! We aren't anywhere near a battle,” the other blond protested, eyes widening at the look of grim determination on Cloud's face.

 

A wave of power struck them, nearly sending them to the floor as they struggled to hold their footing. A wind whipped up, swirling around them only to bind itself around Vincent. Cloud was positive now. The dark haired man was changing to one of his other forms, but he had never witnessed this transformation. It was something new.

 

“What the hell are we going to do?” Cid questioned nervously.

 

Cloud grimly gripped the handle of his Nail Bat, “Whatever it takes.”

 

Nodding his head, though unsure of what he would really do, the pilot reached for the Viper Halberd he had thought to bring down with him earlier.

 

Everything seemed to be growing to a crescendo around the gunman. The wind whistled fiercely and his body seemed to have been completely surrounded by the dark forces around him. His back was pulsating as if something was trying to break free.

 

Cloud and Cid exchanged looks, knowing that now was the time to attack before things got worse. One nod and they started forward against their companion.

 

Vincent let out a shriek that was a mixture of pain and despair. Everything abruptly ceased and went still as he collapsed on the ground, eyes closed and seemingly unconscious.

 

“This freaky shit has got to stop!” Cid exclaimed shaking his head in disbelief, fighting the urge to rush forward and soothe the gunman.

 

“What happened?” Cloud demanded fiercely, growling.

 

“How the hell should I know? What's been going on tonight?”

 

Keeping his sword at the ready, Cloud crept close to the crumpled gunman. He knelt down next to his figure and reached out, looking for a pulse. Vincent was alive but unmoving.

 

“He's out cold,” Cid commented. “I'll take him up to the room. Maybe he just needs sleep,” he suggested with a shrug. He put up his Viper Halberd and kneeled down, easily lifting the gunman into his arms.

 

“I'm not sure if that is safe,” said Cloud, shaking his head. “I mean, he not only tried to kill me once, but then his demons are trying to come out, too.”

 

“What are you trying to say then?” the pilot asked as he started for the stairs. Vincent wasn't that heavy, but he sure couldn't hold on to him forever. Cloud picked up the Silver Rifle from the floor, following in the other man's wake.

 

“I am not sure if I can allow him to be with us anymore.”

 

“So what, we just abandon him or sumthin'? Leave him here in Icicle Inn?” Cid asked incredulously. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

 

“He is dangerous.”

”I don't believe it was him who gave the Black Materia to Sephiroth,” he all but spat back at the hypocritical bastard, Cloud Strife.

 

The ex-SOLDIER winced. “That was a low blow, Cid.”

 

“But it is the truth. Maybe you should think before you start opening your big fucking mouth,” Cid suggested icily. He pushed open the door to the room that he would share with Vincent and walked inside, Cloud close behind him.

 

They were in an awkward silence as Cid placed Vincent on the bed and Cloud put Vincent's gun on one of the small tables in the room.

 

“I see your point,” Cloud finally acknowledged.

 

“He was right then,” Cid said suddenly. He sat on his bed and eyed Cloud. The blond drew up a small chair and sat in front of him, intent on finishing the conversation.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Cid shook his head. “I'm not sure if I should tell you. I don't even think he meant to tell me.”

 

“I am finding it increasingly difficult to trust him,” Cloud stated, shaking his head also. “Neither do I understand how in the hell you two became such good friends even though it appears something has happened to that? Why do you stick up for him?”

 

“Shit, I don't see why you don't,” the other blond answered. “He ain't outright betrayed you like Reeve did. His only crime is being different.”

 

“You weren't so warm to him at first, either,” Strife shot back vindictively.

 

Cid shrugged in response. “Yeah, but I was the first to room with him and I got to know him, or at least as much as he would let me know. Man's as readable as a damn ShinRa memo.”

 

Cloud laughed quietly. “Right you are at that. Aeris was always telling me that we should trust him and to remember that we can't understand what he haven't seen or felt for ourselves.”

 

Neither of the two men noticed when a pair of crimson eyes opened just slightly, and their unconscious friend became coherent.

 

“She was wise beyond her years.” The pilot sighed. “She didn't deserve what Sephiroth did.”

 

Cloud nodded. “And perhaps Vincent doesn't deserve what the rest of us think of him,” he added thoughtfully.

 

“What are you going to do then?”

 

“I still want to know what's going on with him. What happened tonight, and what happened in his life before. I have this feeling that it is important somehow to our journeys. But for now, I will let things be. Keep him close and keep an eye on him, just in case he goes crazy again, like tonight.” Cloud shivered at the thought.

 

“He won't remember anything when he wakes up. He never does after battles when he transforms so this time probably won't be any different.”

 

Cloud sighed. “I only hope I am making the right decision. It has been a long night. I am going to sleep.” He did not wait for a response as he stood up from his chair and returned it to its rightful place. He headed for the door, looking once more at Vincent's prone and obviously unconscious form before opening it quickly. “If you don't feel safe, you are welcome to share the floor with Reeve,” he commented with a smirk as he stepped through the door.

 

“I'll take my chances,” Cid answered darkly.

 

Shrugging his shoulders, Cloud left the room, closing the door gently behind him. Shaking his head in disbelief at the events, the pilot rose and locked it, not even sure of why he did so.

 

He moved away from the door and sat back on his own bed. Cid contemplated the day's events as he slowly stripped down, removing his signature goggles and coat. He took out a cigarette, lighting it quickly. He was not able to relax until he sucked in the first satisfying drag.

 

“Those will be the death of you one day, Highwind.” The unmistakable voice of Vincent echoed through the room.

 

Cid should have been startled. But he had long since noticed the subtle shifts in Vincent's position, and the small gleam of mako in his crimson eyes. He had known that the gunman was awake, and he also knew that he would announce himself when he was ready.

 

“Gotta go one way or other.” Cid shrugged, taking another puff.

 

There was a moment of silence as Vincent shifted on the bed. He turned his head toward Cid, his face still slightly obscured by his hair. Somewhere in the earlier commotion he had lost his headband. He would have to go find it eventually.

 

Cid ignored him as he smoked his cigarette. He knew the gunman by now, knowing that he would talk when he decided what he wanted to say.

 

“Why?” asked Vincent softly, that one-word sentence enough to make Cid pause in his movements.

 

The pilot had begun to unlace his boots. He knew exactly to what the gunman was referring. He blinked twice as he looked at the gunman, crimson meeting blue.

 

“It was the right thing to do,” Cid answered finally, looking down to finish unlacing his boots.

 

“…”

 

“I never said I hated ya, Vince,” the pilot continued. He seemed to concentrate solely on removing the boots.

 

“I assumed you did,” Vincent said softly. “I almost hoped you did…”

 

“Why?” Cid asked startled, looking up suddenly.

 

“Then it would have been easier to forget.”

 

“But why forget? Why not remember?”

 

Vincent struggled to sit up, as if being that position would make things easier for him to say. “I didn't want to hurt you… I never meant to hurt anyone.”

 

“I'm a grown ass man, Vince; I think I coulda handled it, just like I'm handling it now.”

 

Vincent sighed. “I was trying to run… but I couldn't get far.”

 

“Then you are admitting it?”

 

“No.” Vincent shook his head, looking away. “But I am coming to realize it.”

 

“Tch,” Cid said, throwing himself back onto the bed. He lay fully-clothed on the mattress as if he knew he might be called at any moment. “Goodnight, Vincent,” he whispered as he reached up and turned off the light.

 

The room was bathed in darkness. There was a quiet creak as Vincent settled back into the bed, trying to get comfortable. The room was deafening silent.

 

“Cid?”

 

Startled by the sound of his own name again coming from the gunman's lips, Cid answered him, “Yeah?”

 

“I am sorry… I just-“

 

“That's okay. I just… not now… I don't want to hear it now,” the blond cut in, not letting the gunman finish.

 

Vincent closed his mouth. He understood exactly what Cid was trying to tell him. The pilot was still hurting from Vincent's earlier words and it didn't help that the gunman wasn't exactly begging or anything. He would not speak again unless Cid asked him. He would wait for the pilot to make up his mind.

 

“Vince?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“What happened to ya tonight?”

 

Vincent blinked, unsure of how to answer. He himself wasn't even positive. He didn't remember much. Snippets of arguing with Cloud and then fighting with the demons in the head, a vague feeling of helplessness, blood-thirsty thoughts, these memories flashed in his mind.

 

“I am not entirely sure, Cid.”

 

“Ya scared us, you know?” the other man whispered.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

Cid sighed. “But not because of what ya think. It's not like I'm afraid to die or nuthin'. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to have to kill a friend.”

”A friend?” he murmured a hopeful hint in his voice.

 

“Yeah. Hell, Vince, what ya think you were to me? To all of us?”

 

“Certainly not friend. Acquaintance, perhaps, or even reason for hatred. I hadn't counted on friendship.”

 

“Don't be such a dumbass, ya ain't that ugly.” Cid paused. “In fact, yer kinda cute, especially when you're pissed or sumthin'.”

 

“Cid…”

 

“Whatever. Go to sleep, Vince.”

 

Vincent shifted in his bed, trying to get comfortable. He did actually feel pretty worn out.

 

“G'night, Vin.”

 

“Goodnight… Cid.”

 

* * *