Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Unfaithful ❯ Part III : Consequences ( Chapter 3 )

Thanks for all the readers and reviewers, I put the responses on the bottom. As I said in the first part, this is only a three-part story but if enough people are interested in more, I might continue it. It is up to the reader's entirely so let me know and if you do want it, let me know what you think should happen. With that said, thanks everyone, it's been great!

 

Part Three: Consequences

 

My phone started ringing at six in the morning, way before normal waking hours even began. I woke up slowly, as usual, reaching out blindly for the annoying thing and pressing it to my ear. Vincent groaned, stirring beside me, but I quietly patted him back to sleep before rising from bed and padding out into the hallway.

 

“Strife, here,” I responded, biting back a yawn.

 

I half-listened to the man's request for delivery service, mostly trying to wake my sleep-fogged brain. I got the basic gist of it; he wanted packages delivered quickly and safely. I managed a somewhat coherent verbal agreement before slamming the cell shut and creeping back into the bedroom. My eyes immediately fell on Vincent, nestled beneath the covers and looking, for once, peaceful as he slept.

 

He usually had nightmares, the kind that I well knew, remembering dark figures in the night, horrible tortures that people heard about but didn't ever believe truly occurred. I don't know everything that happened to Vincent when he was under Hojo's rule, and truthfully, it's probably best that I don't. Some things are better left forgotten. With Hojo dead, there was no need to drudge up past hells. The future was far more important, and we were both slowly starting to realize that.

 

I crept around the room, quietly pulling on my clothes and trying my best not to waken him before I slipped out of the house, heading back into main Midgar where my client was waiting for me. I tried not to hope that I would run into Reno today; I tried not to remember that Friday was only a few days away.

 

The streets were quiet and nearly empty this early in the morning as I roared through them on Fenrir. It was almost peaceful, a look Midgar hadn't experienced in a long time. A man once said that it took destruction to create, but I never really believed that until I saw what happened after ShinRa's downfall. People started bonding together, started cooperating. They didn't need a mega corporation to make them happy.

 

My thoughts weren't on the road, however; they were on my two lovers, my yin and yang. Polar opposites in every way. Reno was an addiction, like a drug that I just couldn't give up. Vincent needed me; I needed him. The both of us needed to heal. I loved them both in some way, some shape, if my tattered heart could truly love someone.

 

It was painful, and it was distressing. I was so damned confused every day, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. So I kept up the lies and the tales. I kept up the secrets, telling myself that one day I would stop, not that I ever did. And then, it became a rhythm, a way of living, and another course to run.

 

I went home to Vincent every night, when I didn't have overnight runs to far away towns. I laid beside him, and I made love to him. I chased away the nightmares, just as easily as he chased away mine.

 

And some days, I “worked late.” Some nights, I didn't go home at all. I found Reno, or he found me, and I would spend the evening in an almost drugged up haze of pleasure and passion of a sort that I just couldn't find in Vincent's arms.

 

It was like I was two different people once again; except this time, the insanity was of my own making. If someone had told me that one day I would be playing two different men, running myself ragged trying to have both when any sane man would be satisfied with just one, I would have laughed in their face. Now, I had to face the sorrowful truth. Someday, I would be forced to choose, but I hoped day after day that I could have just one more chance, one more moment before it all came crashing down.

 

It was only a matter of when.

 

My tires crunched over gravel and broken glass, momentarily distracting me from my broody thoughts. I frowned, glaring down at the pavement whizzing by and taking my eyes off the road for only a second. Fenrir's tires were one of a kind, special design, and were a bitch to replace.

 

Something caught my gaze. A flash of red hair perhaps. A flutter of what I thought to be a crimson cloak. My eyes snapped to the side, instantly scanning the sidewalk as if my sleep-addled mind truly believed one of my two lovers were just standing there for no reason at all.

 

That second was all that my luck needed to run its course.

 

I whizzed through a red light before I even registered I was doing so, looking up just in time to find Fenrir and I speeding through an intersection and heading straight for the side of a ShinRa truck. Not even my enhanced reflexes could save me, but I slammed on the brakes anyways, hoping that I could at least keep the damage to a minimum.

 

The last thing I saw before the darkness over took me was the words “ShinRa Electric Power Company” emblazoned on the side of the rusted, out-of-date truck.

 

How ironic.

 

- - - -

 

I opened my eyes slowly, feeling the pulsing pound of a headache in the back of my skull. The lights were blindingly bright, the type used in hospitals, and I blinked, trying to clear my fuzzy memories as I shifted on the bed, firm and unyielding beneath me. A groan of pain escaped me at the movement, every inch of my body feeling battered and bruised.

 

Then, I remembered. I had crashed Fenrir into the side of a ShinRa truck when I ran a red light.

 

Stupid.

 

I lifted a hand to feel my head, scowling at the wires attached to it. I hate hospitals and all things associated with them. Thanks to Dr. Hojo, I now had a healthy fear of anything that wielded a syringe, medical professionals included.

 

“You're awake.” A slightly amused voice alerted me to the fact that I was not alone. I squinted as I turned my head, making out a shock of bright red hair and aquamarine eyes.

 

Reno.

 

I blinked, trying to clear away the fuzziness again. “How long was I out?” I searched the room. It was just Reno, no one else.

 

“Half a day, at least, yo,” he answered casually, striding to stand at the edge of my bed on the right side. He looked down on me, an unreadable expression on his face as I struggled to sit up, yanking off a few of the unnecessary read-outs and equipment. I winced as healing bruises pulled and protested the movement, but otherwise, a quick systems check informed me that I was healthy.

 

I scanned the room again, searching for my clothes and, by proxy, my cell phone. I had to call Vincent. I know that he would be worried. They probably wouldn't have thought to call him, which made me wonder how Reno knew.

 

I wrinkled my brow, looking up at him as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “How did you know I was here?”

 

He shrugged, fingers twitching, as if he wished for a cigarette. “Caught the call on the scanner. Recognized your description, yo.”

 

I smirked. “Don't tell me you were concerned?”

 

It was his turn to grin, the famous shit-eating grin that made him seem gleeful, but I knew he was quite deadly beneath that facade. “I couldn't lose my favorite toy.”

 

A shiver raced down my spine, but I tamped it out, knowing that I needed to call Vincent. I was supposed to call him and tell him where I was heading out to, since I couldn't remember this morning. And I had forgotten to say goodbye.

 

“Valentine was here.”

 

My gaze shot up at that moment, instantly locking on his face. “What?” I questioned, a sudden fear striking me.

 

Vincent and Reno were here? At the same time? And I had been unconscious? That voice in my head screeched the last abrupt realization, unable to fathom the possible repercussions from such an event.

 

The Turk nodded, that same indescribable emotion on his face, and I couldn't quite decide what it meant. He took a step back, as if preparing to defend himself.

 

“Doc called him from your cell phone,” he replied.

 

Then why wasn't he here now? I knew that Vincent hated hospitals, but for me, he would have braved them. He would have waited for me to wake up because he knows how much I fear them, too. And if Vincent knew, that meant Tifa did as well. I stifled a groan at the thought, mind rapidly trying to process the information.

 

Reno added a second later, “But as you can see, he left already.”

 

With the look in his eyes and the almost sneer on his face, I instantly knew that Reno had said something. He had to have. Vincent wouldn't have just left. He wouldn't.

 

I growled, rationality losing its hold as I leapt off the bed, ignoring the beeping of the monitors as the remaining wires tore from my body, an IV drip ripping from my arm. I jerked Reno by the collar, shoving him against a wall and causing an ugly landscape to drop to the ground, the glass shattering.

 

“What did you tell him?” I snarled, curling my fingers in his clothing and nearly choking him with my greater strength. For once, our positions were reversed, and it was me shoving him against a wall.

 

He smirked, aquamarine eyes flashing, looking none too perturbed. “I told him the truth, yo,” he replied. “Like you should've.”

 

My own eyes narrowed, becoming little more than blue slits. “Why?”

 

After all this time, after our many encounters, why would he choose now of all times to speak up? He hadn't ever cared before. I had been lying unconscious, with no way to see how Vincent reacted, though I could imagine it. Devastation, betrayal…

 

Oh, Kami, he was probably leaving as we spoke. That's what Vincent did when he was hurting or unsure. He fled into the night.

 

“Because he deserved to know,” Reno snapped, pulling me from my thoughts. “And then after that, he left without a word.” His own hands came up, sitting on my fists and pushing me down to grant him some breathing room. “I'm tired of playing games, Cloud.”

 

But I barely heard him, releasing my hold on him automatically as I cast my eyes about the room. I found my clothes, dirty and torn lying on a chair. I quickly grabbed them, frantically pulling them on. I was hoping, praying to a god that I didn't believe existed that I could catch him before he disappeared. I prayed that Vincent was still at home. It was a frail chance, but I couldn't just let him go. I couldn't.

 

“Valentine's not an idiot,” Reno continued. I barely heard him through the rushing in my ears, the frenetic attempts to just do something. “I'm sure he had some idea. But knowing him, he didn't want to know because then he would have to face it.”

 

My breath constricted in my throat, knowing all the thoughts and images that must have been running through his mind. That I was nothing more than I liar. That I had never cared. That I had used him just like all the others.

 

But it wasn't true. It wasn't! And he had to see that.

 

My First Ken was leaning up against a wall, looking a little scuffed but otherwise unharmed. My mind briefly flickered to Fenrir, wondering if it survived the collision. I opened my mouth to ask Reno, already slinging the sheath for my sword across my back, but he spoke up first.

 

“Where are you going?” Reno demanded. “You're still fucked up from the accident.” There was concern in his voice, the first evidence that I had received that he truly felt something for me more than the outrageous lust, that the feelings I had for him weren't one-sided. And it hurt. It only made what I was feeling worse, causing my head to spin.

I had noticed the slight dizziness and the pain that raced through my body, but I had ignored it. The damned mako would start doing its job soon enough, and I would heal. However, there were more important things to worry about than my own health. My life was crashing down around me, and I was struggling to save some precious part of it.

 

Vincent, I loved him. I didn't want to see him go. I didn't want to be the one to add to his inner pain. I didn't want to be the one to push him over the edge.

 

“Fuck my injuries. Where's my bike?” I questioned, whirling to look at the Turk.

 

He was leaning casually against the wall, something guarded behind his eyes. “Tifa had it hauled back to the bar. Said she would get it fixed.” He pushed off the wall, striding towards me. “Where are you going?”

 

I shook my head, pushing past him. “I have to find Vincent. I have to tell him…” I trailed off.

 

What was I going to tell him? That I was sorry? That it wasn't his fault? That I loved him? What could I say that he would believe? What could I say to repair the broken trust, already fragile, but now, little more than words stomped to pieces in the ground?

 

“Tell him what?” Reno snarled, and just from the tone of his voice, I turned around in shock. His normally pale complexion had colored with anger, hands clenched into fists at his side. “That you loved him, while you were fucking me? That it didn't mean anything?”

 

I winced at the emotion behind his voice. All this time, I had been worried more about Vincent, convinced that Reno could handle it. After all, he already knew what he was getting into. He knew that he was the other man. But I had underestimated the depth of his emotions, and now, I was faced with the startling truth, two broken hearts on my hands. And only one I could heal.

 

I shook my head, limp spikes waving from side to side. “No, it did!” I denied, not wanting him to believe anything but. Reno was no casual encounter. I wouldn't betray Vincent's trust for a simple fuck!

 

“That's the problem! I can't just…” I chewed on my lip, running an anxious hand through my hair as words failed me. I could feel his eyes on me, staring, accusing, wanting me to do something, but I didn't know what.

 

I shook my head again. “I've got to go.” I turned on my heels again. Vincent first, Reno later. There was only so much time. It was harder to chase a shadow than a Turk.

 

Then, his voice floated my direction, low and almost venomous. “If you walk out that door, Strife, it's over,” he hissed. “It's time to choose, him or me.”

 

I paused, not expecting him to say anything like that. Choose?

 

He acted like it was as simple as deciding whether or not I wanted to eat cereal or muffins for breakfast. How could I just choose between two different sides of my heart? How could I live with just one and not the other?

 

I had been doing this so long that they were both intertwined in my heart, ultimately entangled, despite their separate places in my life.

 

“I can't,” I finally replied after the pregnant pause that only upped the level of tension in the room. “I don't know how, but I love you both. I need--"

 

“Well, you can't have both!” he cut in quickly, voice lashing through the air. “Fuckin' choose, Cloud!”

 

“I can't!” I roared, turning to stare at him. I nearly faltered at the sheer hurt on his face, as much as he, a member of the Turks, could show. My voice immediately softened as the guilt struck me.

 

It was all my fault, and for once, my own pain was all my fault.

 

“Let me find him first; then, I'll come talk to you, and--"

 

He shook his head, cutting me off again. “It doesn't work that way, not anymore. I'm not doing it.” He set his jaw, gradually clenching and unclenching his fists as his gaze fell to the floor, watching the tiles. “If you walk out that door, I don't want to fuckin' see you again.”

 

His words sounded so final, and there I stood, feeling as if I was on the witness stand, trying to decide which side I would take. My hands balled into fists as I gritted my teeth, looking away from him and back towards the door. I couldn't walk away and look into those eyes at the same time. I couldn't see his hurt as well. Call me a coward, call me a bastard, but I just couldn't do it. Reno was here now; he wasn't likely to disappear into nothingness, becoming a ghost that no one could find. But Vincent… if I waited any longer, it was likely I would never see him again. I couldn't have that.

 

I hung my head. “I'm sorry,” I whispered by way of answer. I would beg, and I would plead, and I would apologize until my lips turned blue. But for now, I couldn't wait any longer.

 

I heard a huff of air, something like a long sigh, but I didn't dare turn around. My arm started to ache, and I ignored it, keeping my eyes locked on the door beyond me. I didn't know how I was going to get back to our house, but I would run if I had to. I couldn't let him go without a fight.

 

In the lobby of the hospital, I ran into Tifa, quite literally. In such a rush, I collided with the brunette, nearly knocking her over.

 

“Cloud!” she exclaimed, a smile on her face. “You're awake. And walking around. Why?”

 

I nodded, barely registering her relief before I grabbed her arm. “How did you get here?” I demanded, fear settling so heavily in my chest that I could scarcely breathe. I couldn't even see reason anymore. My only thoughts were getting home. Time was slipping through my fingers, and my heart thudded painfully in my chest.

 

Her face pinched with concern and confusion. “I drove the truck. Why?” Her eyes searched mine, but I betrayed nothing.

 

I felt another stab of pain through my arm, and I winced. “Let me have the keys. Please, Tif, it's important.”

 

She frowned, digging into her pocket with one hand. “Why, Cloud?” she questioned again, the metal jangling as she searched. “Are you sure you should be--"

 

I ignored her, however, grabbing the keys from her hand and dashing past with a belated “Sorry” before I ran out the door. My mind painted all sorts of unpleasant images, some that I believed, some that I was plainly overreacting.

 

Hurt mako green eyes haunted me as I drove recklessly, skidding around traffic and narrowly avoiding several accidents. The fear of coming home to blood-spattered walls had me pressing the gas pedal nearly to the floor. My heart clenched, my left arm throbbed, and I vaguely noted that I was acting like a maniac. But who cared? I had never been all right in the head to begin with, not after Sephiroth and Jenova. I would probably never be the same again.

 

“Please, don't be gone,” I whispered under my breath, another hopeless prayer to a god I didn't believe in. I kept up the mantra, somehow believing that if I said it enough, begged it enough, it would be true.

 

Tifa's truck screeched into the driveway about ten minutes after I ran out of the hospital. I barely had enough thought to shut off the engine before I hopped out, leaving my sword lying on the front passenger seat and the door hanging wide open. We lived on the outskirts of Edge, far enough away that we were rarely bothered by anyone, including thieves. Truthfully, with the way Vincent flitted about, most people thought our house was haunted.

 

It was approaching dusk, which meant I had been in the hospital far longer than half the day, but I saw lights in the windows. A small stirring of hope began to rise within me. I flung open the front door, quickly scanning the entrance for signs of him anywhere.

 

“Vincent!” I called. Silence returned my cry. It was cold, stark, and bitter. Heart thudding painfully in my chest, I glanced into the kitchen and the living room, noting their emptiness before I ran upstairs. My boots thudded loudly on the wooden steps.

 

“Please, please, please, please,” I repeated it over and over.

 

Slam! Bathroom was empty.

 

Slam! Guest room was empty.

 

Only one room left, but that sick feeling had already settled in my stomach. I knew what I would find; there was an empty aura to the house. An abandoned feeling, the kind you get when you KNOW you are the only one home. There was no red cloak hanging in the hall closet. There had been no holster for a three-barreled gun near the door, no gold-tipped boots. But I held onto one last shred of hope.

 

The door slammed open, revealing an empty bedroom. Rumpled sheets were on the bed, probably still dirtied from the night before. There was a haphazard pile of dirty clothes on the floor. The closet door was flung wide open, and a picture laid face down on the bedside table. I recognized the gilded silver frame; I knew what was behind the glass.

 

The walls, where we kept our various weapons on display, were devoid of all guns, every last one. From the open door of the closet, empty hangers dangled, stark proof that he had gone. My legs buckled, and I slumped in the doorway, one hand on the frame as I sagged to my knees.

 

I was too late.

 

I could still smell him, the faint scent of whatever it is that he wears hanging on the air. I saw flashes… of crimson eyes filled with trust, passionate cries echoing, and a dinner that was never eaten, probably stowed safely away in the fridge for another day. My chest constricted, and suddenly, I couldn't breathe, staring in at the empty remains of what could have been a perfectly happy life.

 

He was gone to who knows where, and I doubted he was coming back. Ever.

 

A pain welled up, so deep that I choked on it. My free hand that wasn't grasping onto the door for dear life scrubbed over my face in frustration and sorrow. This was my fault, all my fault. If I hadn't been so greedy, if I could have just said no to Reno or made my choice.

 

Reno…

 

My eyes widened in sudden remembrance, and I frantically grabbed my phone, quickly flipping open it and hitting speed dial number 8. The read out claimed it to be Pepper's Pizza, but I knew better. Not that Vincent had ever invaded my privacy, but it never paid to be careful.

 

I sighed as I listened to the phone ring, heart leaping into my throat. I had become far too skilled at hiding my indiscretions. My arm ached again with another fresh stab of pain and agony so deep that I finally glanced at it, noticing the subtle darkening of my skin, as if it was bruised severely. I frowned in confusion, but in that moment, someone finally picked up the phone.

 

But it wasn't the familiar, cheery, or bored “yo” that I had come to recognize. No, this voice was distinctly unfamiliar and angry.

 

“Don't call again, Strife.” It was an obvious warning.

 

“Rude?” I hazarded a guess, knowing of only one other person who would answer Reno's phone and who possibly knew about our tryst.

 

“You heard me.” The phone clicked dead, going silent so quickly that I scarcely had time to contemplate. Reno had been serious.

 

My phone clattered to the floor from nerveless fingers as I hung my head, feeling a sob beginning to well inside my chest. My free hand raked through my hair, tightening and nearly pulling it out as the emotions swelled and rose, washing over me with the force of a tidal wave and leaving me a broken wreck on the floor of our… my home.

 

A choice I couldn't make. And now, I was left holding nothing but memories and scattered dreams. Then, they came; the tears I had been holding back released when the last piece of hope smashed to pieces. My eyes fell on the face down picture, through the parted fingers covering my face, and I screamed in frustration and pain, punching the ground.

 

I let the tears fall, unashamed to cry. It was my fault. I had betrayed him. I let my heart become torn, let my life become a lie, and now, I was reaping what I had sown. Perhaps it was justified that I was alone in the end. Maybe this was all that I deserved.

 

To be alone again, such was my fate.

 

- - - -

 

A/N: I know what you're thinking! Horrible authoress to let it end like that! What the hell? Yep, that's what you're thinking. Originally, this was an outrageously long one-shot, but I split it into three parts for easier reading. I have been tossing ideas in my head for a few more parts to this. That is entirely up to the readers however.

 

Thanks for reading! Please review!!

 

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ChessyKat: You are absolutely right. I couldn't think of anything for Vincent to get Cloud and as of yet, still haven't, so I left it ambiguous. I hope this final part was just as good. Thanks!!