FicWad

((AN: I'm so sorry this is so late. More love to Del, who is miraculous as always. As always, I don't own a thing...))

Tifa struggled to set Cid's jaw back in line, but it was difficult--Vincent had done a very good job of breaking it. The pilot wasn't much help either, as he kept moving and talking--or attempting to at any rate. Tifa could almost make out the curses. Finally she stopped and ordered him to stop making things difficult. After something that may have been a protest, he complied, probably in too much pain to argue the point. After another minute of renewed effort, Tifa figured it was the best she could do--Vincent had hit him across the side of the jaw, shattering the portion just before where it connected to the rest of the skull. This was a house and bar, not a hospital. Which is where, she mused, she probably should have taken him. Materia was quicker though, and she knew Cid wouldn't stand for having his jaw wired shut, broken mandible or no. She was just beginning to set her focus on the luminescent green orb, though, when she heard the creak of the front door opening. Oh gods, I hope that isn't Marlene-or a customer. She twisted where she sat, craning her neck to see around the corner. In the doorway stood a very clean man in a neatly pressed suit. Her first impulse was to label him a Turk, but he wasn't one. He did, however, work for ShinRa. Or had.
"...Reeve?!" His head jerked up and he stepped sharply to his right, allowing him to see her where she knelt.
"Tifa," he greeted as he stepped forward, "I hav-what in Holy happened?" Naturally shocked, he seemed paralysed by this new development. "Is he all right?!" Cid tried to respond with something along the general lines of 'what the hell do you think, dipshit?' but Tifa cut him off.
"He's not going to die, no. He got in a fight with Vincent." Her patience was rather thin, she really didn't need this right now, but guessed it was probably more stressful for him than it was for her. She was right. Having never personally been in combat, or even in the presence of a severe injury like this, Reeve was rather shaken by this and was left at a complete loss. As such, he simply stood numbly as Tifa returned her attention to Cid and the Materia. After a few seconds of tense concentration the afflicted area glowed slightly green, then the light was absorbed back into the skin and the room exploded in profanity. Tifa interrupted him.
"Cid, what did Vincent do to you?" He stared at her as though she'd just sprouted antlers.
"Punched me in the goddamn mouth, what does it fucking look like?"
"But why?" It was like pulling teeth.
"Fuck if I know."
"/Think/, Cid. What was the last thing you said to him?"
"Nothing to make me deserve that shit! Just told him he's acting like a goddamn jerk and that bein' Hojo's lab...rat...goddamn."
"What?" Tifa blinked at him. Maybe he'd taken some brain damage too.
"Goddamn."
"..er..."
"Goddamn!"
"Hold it." Reeve's low voice cut across the exchange with enough suddenness to make Tifa jump. "Where is Vincent now?" The question made her realise she had no idea, and she unconsciously turned her head to look down the hall where she'd passed him. Cid, catching the motion, added his opinion.
"Probably in that goddamn hole of a fucking room. Not like he's got anywhere else to hide his sorry ass."
"And where would that 'goddamn hole of a fucking room' be?" There was a dry edge to Reeve's voice, not mocking but slightly ironic all the same.
"The attic," Tifa cut in, before Cid could start something. "It's past the bedroom and up the stairs. It's not hard to find."


"...Vincent?" Reeve tapped lightly on the door. There was a movement on the other side, but no response. He hadn't expected any. He sat down on the wooden floor outside the attic, then took a deep breath before letting it out again. "Vincent, Cid has recovered." It was almost a reassurance, though he somehow doubted that was the thing Vincent wanted to hear right now. "It's fortunate Tifa had the Restore Materia on her, or there could have been permanent damage." Reeve imagined he heard a soft snort of derision. Reproach was not the right tactic, and he knew this. But he'd had to try. "His jaw was crushed, actually. He couldn't talk, though not for want of trying." He leaned back against the wall. "I suppose he's simply lucky that his cheek bone didn't splinter...it would have gone into his eye, I'd think, though I'm not really a doctor." He sighed and fell silent for several seconds as he waited for a response. None came, but he took a further minute to collect his thoughts. "I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, and I don't think Cid is really angry, to be honest." A rustle of cloth indicated Vincent was indeed behind the door, and moving. He couldn't tell if the man was coming closer or retreating though, as only a single dull tunk of metal was heard. It made Reeve nervous that he wasn't being answered--it was perhaps a little too much like trying to report to Tseng. Except Tseng never had Vincent's temper that he'd been able to tell. He hesitated, not really wanting to ask this, but not knowing how else to elicit a reaction. "Vincent....are you religious?"
Vincent still didn't respond. There was a reason for this. If Reeve could have gotten into Vincent's mind, he'd have experienced an aggravating and disconcerting buzzing, like a mass of hellish bees in his head. Vincent had never had a headache like this before-if indeed that was what it was. He knew very well, though, that Cid hadn't any real understanding of his anger, and he was fine with that--which was why he was currently furious with himself. Reeve was going on, talking about some kind of penance...Vincent only caught fractured portions of it. It was metaphorical, but Vincent felt a little annoyed that Reeve was talking to him about penance. Vincent had spent the last thirty years working on penance, and he'd made no progress toward redemption. He knew the struggle far better than anyone else--it had become his life. As far as Vincent could tell, Reeve had no sins to bear, but there he was outside the door, talking about penance. He was surprised to find...he resented it. It wasn't a feeling he'd had in a long time...not since he'd...well, not since he'd resented Hojo for Lucrecia's affection. Hojo...Lucrecia had loved him...she'd loved him...and himself/....Lucrecia...being.../with her...was like touching heaven...just for a little bit...that bastard/, that /fucking bastard Hojo...he hurt her...but he, Vincent, had killed her...there was Reeve again, talking now about Aeris...the buzzing filled his head now, and he closed his eyes to try and shut it all out.
Reeve was interrupted by sounds from the other side of the door. There was a crash, and a rattling noise, then a scraping sound that he couldn't describe. "Vincent?" No answer, except an arrhythmic thumping. "Vincent!" Another rattle, then the sound of breaking glass. Then a crack that could have been either wood or bone.
"TIFA!"