The Workaholic
(By "Freakin 2 Unlimited Songs" Zar)
(Note: I am not responsible for any mental damage caused by reading this fic.)

There was nothing like being torn from one place that didn't understand you and ignored you, to a BIGGER place that not only ignored you, but didn't care at all.
He had a suitcase and a backpack with him when he stepped off the bus, and he felt painfully small amidst a large group of milling people, people who seemed to know where they were going. He stood there in silence for a moment, not sure of where he should go, and everyone seemed to be heading in different directions. He waited, his scarlet eyes panning over the crowd repeatedly, looking for some kind of focus, some kind of idea where he should go.
He adjusted his backpack as it began to dig into his collarbone and felt the aching in his back lessen for only a second, then return with greater force as the backpack slid back to it's former position. He sighed. He shouldn't have taken so many books with him, but he couldn't help himself. He had guessed from his previous situation that he would not be making many friends, and although he had not even gone to class, attempted conversation, or even met his roommate, he had a feeling that his assumption would be correct.
The claws on his metal arm creaked slightly and he slid his sweater over the golden metal. He never felt comfortable discussing the deformity, and he didn't want attention payed to it at the moment. All he wanted right now was to find a place where he could put his stuff down.
He walked forward slightly, his suitcase fortunately on wheels so it wasn't as much of an ordeal as his backpack, and looked towards the large, looming building in front of him. That must be where he was supposed to go.
Before he knew what was happening, the world flipped sideways sharply, and he cried out as his backpack overbalanced him, and he fell back onto the pavement, the grit digging sharply into his elbows even through his thick sweater.
Someone began shaking him.
He wanted to rub his head with his left arm, but decided at the moment that would be unwise. His right arm was pinned at the moment by....
Someone's backpack?
He opened his eyes and found sky-blue ones staring at his in concern and worry.
"Hey, hey? Are you okay? #$^#, 'm sorry, #%&#, this is just #$^#in' great..."
When he opened his eyes to get a greater bearing of where he was, he found that the weight that was on his right arm was from the person on top of him's backpack, which had slung off his shoulder from the impact. He guessed he was one of those kind of people who carried their backpack on one shoulder. As it was, their position was extremely incriminating, with the lighter-haired male's completely on top of him, holding onto his shoulder's and shaking him. He was wearing a light blue shirt and what appeared to be green khakis, and....
Flight goggles?
"Thank #$^#in' god you woke up, #$^#, I thought I was in some real #$^# there..." He seemed to be babbling angrily, apparently upset at himself and trying to hide it. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, shifting the backpack back onto his back. He held out his hand, which was covered with a thick glove. "I'm Cid, sorry for #$^#in' you up there, didn't mean it."
"Vincent..." He struggled to sit upwards, still disoriented from what had happened. He finally was able to rub his head with his free hand and thankfully found no blood of any sort. He was relieved, he had feared his contact with the pavement would be more damaging. It was at this point that he heard the mocking laughter around him, and noted Cid beginning to blush angrily. He took the gloved hand awkwardly. "I'm Vincent."
He shook his hand furiously and let go just as quickly. "Well, great to meet you, Vin, I really got to #^#%in' go though, sorry 'bout this, see ya!" With that, the blonde was up on his feet and running furiously. Vincent related instantly with what he was doing as he stood, enduring the laughter as stoically as possible. He felt like getting away from the mockery himself.
He brushed back his black hair from his eyes and resumed his journey towards the looming building, hoping there wouldn't be any more unwanted surprises.

~~~
After several moments of confusion, the office finally told him where to go, as if they expected him to know exactly where he was supposed to be the minute he got off the bus. He just knew his room number and dorm, he didn't know where they actually WERE. However, they looked at him like he was an idiot when he tried to explain that, so he just gave up and followed their directions.
When he got to his room, he found that his roommate had yet to arrive. He breathed a sigh of relief. Rooms had always been a big thing at his house, and he was glad that it would be someone coming into his room, rather then the other way around.
He shrugged off his backpack finally and began unpacking his clothes, folding them neatly into the drawers provided, and then digging into his backpack. He filled all of the shelves with his books, as many as he could possible fit, and put up one of his few posters, a giant picture of Cthulu, a creature created by one of his favorite authors.
Not sure of what else to do, he sat on the bed, picked out one of his books, and waited.
He waited for a while until the door was slammed open, and someone walked in, quietly mumbling to themselves.
He was wearing a dark purple sweater with no sleeves, and what appeared to be large metal bracelets. He couldn't help but stare at his hair. It spiked to the extreme in a style he had never seen before. The young man was mumbling underneath his breath as he shoved his clothes into his drawer hurriedly and threw his backpack on the bed, shoving his hands into his black jeans. He finally turned and noticed Vincent, who was curled in one corner of his bed, quietly reading.
"Oh, hello." The young man's voice was very quiet and flatline. Vincent cocked his head slightly. "I guess you're my roommate."
Vincent nodded, not quite sure how else to respond. He silently put his bookmark back in his book.
"Right, I'm Cloud. You must be Vincent, right?" Cloud shrugged and began heading for the door. "I'm going out. Do you want to come?"
Vincent shook his head quietly and watched the spiky-haired young man leave. He thought carefully for a moment.
He seemed somewhat quiet, almost angrily so. He wasn't sure what he was trying to hide or prove, but Vincent decided it would be best not to cross him, even if he was bigger then him.
He sighed and went back to reading.

~~~
Cloud immediately covered his side of the room with pictures and posters, mostly of his friends and motorcycles, but didn't seem to speak to Vincent much. They both were the quiet type, so this didn't really bother him.
The following days passed quietly as Vincent struggled to get his schedule under control and get everything sorted out. He went and noted which buildings he would have to go to on what day, and how long it would take for him to get there. Most of the time, however, he sat and read. When he slept, he had nightmares, which didn't surprise him. He had always had nightmares, ever since his parents had seperated.
When school finally started, his first class was at eight in the morning, which didn't really agree with him. Vincent was nocturnal. He woke, along with Cloud, reluctantly and headed to class anyway, bringing along his walkman. He fully planned to not be noticed, so he decided that quietly listening to "Billy and the Chocobo's" wasn't going to hurt anyone.
He sat down in the backrow, as he always did, and waited for everyone to arrive. He was early. He wasn't surprised.
Students filed in quietly, most of them exhausted and no doubt worn out from their first few nights of freedom. He turned his walkman on high power, so that he could hear nothing, and quietly sketched on his paper. Drawing was something that he generally kept to himself, as he believed that his own artwork was terrible, but it was something that he always did when he was bored.
He jumped when someone tapped him quietly and slid his headphones back, as he was accustomed to doing. He looked up, waiting for the stern look that told him to turn his music down, or keep the headphones off.
The confident face of Cid looked down at him, smiling awkwardly. His eyes had large rings under him, and he looked slightly wobbly. No doubt Cid had also enjoyed his first nights of freedom as well. His voice was rougher then it had been when they first met. "Hey, what d'you know, same class."
Vincent blinked as he remembered Cid in an instant, then nodded silently. He could go weeks without ever saying a word. Cid laughed and then gestured to the empty seat next to Vincent. He always kept at least two empty seats next to him. He liked his space, and he didn't really think anyone would want him sitting next to them anyway. "Mind?"
Vincent shook his head, and Cid flopped down in his chair, leaning back and sighing. "#$^#, this class is too #$^#in' early..."
Vincent was planning on turning his headphones back on and going back to drawing when he could feel Cid's presence near his shoulder. He could smell the faint presence of cigarettes.
"Hey, what'cha drawin'?"
"Mm?" Vincent hadn't expected that question and leaned back slightly so he could study Cid's face, which was already close to the paper. He was planning on explaining how his drawings weren't good, but Cid cut him off.
"#$^#, Vin, this is some good #$^#. Where'd you learn to draw like this?"
Vincent didn't know what to say. He just stared incoherently for a few seconds.
"Wish I could #$^#in' draw." Cid sighed and leaned his head into his hands, his elbows on Vincent's desk. He noted that he was still wearing those gloves. "All I can #$^%in' do is write, an' not well I might add..."
Vincent finally found his voice. "You can write...?"
Cid smiled cockily at him. "So it talks! Sure, I guess. I never showed anyone 'cause I think I'm pretty bad, but #$^#, you're really good at this."
"You really think so?" Vincent's voice betrayed nothing of his inner confusion.
"#$^#in-A. This one's really cute, if you're into that kind of stuff." He pointed to one of Vincent's small chibi's in the corner.
Vincent, if he was shocked before, was doubly-shocked.
If anyone saw his art, they described it as gothic, dark, bloody, and depressed. Even when he felt good, even when he tried to make his drawings light and happy, to match with his rare good moods, everyone saw them as dark, ironically morbid. No one had ever told him his drawings were cute...he had tried to for that several times, but had never really accomplished it...or had he?
He was more confused then ever now.
"You're really good, Vin." Cid smiled at him, his sincerity hard to doubt. "How'd you learn?"
Vincent finally managed to speak again, shaking his head softly and lowering his eyes. "No...no, I'm not good, there are a lot of other people-"
"#$^# the other people." Cid crossed his arms and stared at him levelly. "You're #$^#in' good and that's that."
Vincent looked to one side, suddenly aware of his claw-arm. He knew that there were others in his class with stranger defects (he even saw one with a leopard tail) but he was extremely self-conscious about his own. He looked down at his left arm, making sure it was still completely covered. "I...thank you, I guess..."
"Y'probably don't remember my name." Cid cut him off before he could protest. "I'm Cid Highwind. I'm the clumsy #$^# who ran into you. Sorry 'bout that again..."
Vincent shook his head. "No, no, it's alright, really..."
"$^#%, wish I could draw like this..." Cid seemed to sigh slightly. "I'm not really good at anythin' tho'..."
"You said that you could write..."
"More like try." Cid shrugged and moved his shoulders off of Vincent's desk, leaning back in his own chair, hands behind his head. "Least you're good at somethin'..."
"Highwind, I'm sure-"
"Class!" The professor had arrived while Vincent had not been paying attention, and he immediately turned away from Cid, focusing his attention back on his paper. He found the pen he was holding in his flesh hand twitching, as if wanting to do something. Was he that thirsty for positive recognition that his muse had been rekindled just by a few kind words?
The class began, and it went on almost without further distraction, excepting a note passed to him by Cid, written in rough, scratchy strokes.
"Wanna read some of my stories? Where's your room?"
Vincent stared at it for a while, chancing a glance at Cid while he did so, finding the young man glancing ta him ever so often as well, as if wondering whether he had found the note at all.
He wrote down his room number on the note and passed it back. After all, what's the worst that could happen?

~~~
Most of Vincent's nights were spent flipping through channels with the sound way down, or reading while Cloud watched or worked. Tonight Cloud was out, so Vincent was laying on his bed, his arms spread out to his sides, staring at the ceiling. The more that he thought about it, the more he considered putting something up there that he could stare at at times like this.
There was nothing on TV to watch...
There was nothing that he felt like reading...
He felt himself breathe for a few moments, felt his spine curve away from the bed and meet it again, a curve that he was never able to fully get rid of comfortably when he layed down. He flexed his toes, streched slightly, but still felt no real compulsion to move.
He just felt like staring at something.
He wasn't sure when Cid was supposed to come, and perhaps that was why he felt so awkward. Was it because he didn't want to be doing something when Cid came? He had never done that before...
Then again, it had been a long time since someone had come to pay him a visit in friendship...
He wondered if they would be friends, but he felt somewhere inside him that he already knew the answer. Unlike a lot of people, Cid didn't trigger his inherent fear, his mistrust. He hadn't locked up completly in front of him, refusing to talk, and he hadn't reacted with anger, asking for him to go away. There was something disarming about him, but he wasn't sure what...
He finally did roll over, reaching out one of his thin arms to take the pad of paper lying near him. He took his pencil and sat up, leaning against the wall. He rested the paper against his knees and began sketching lightly, his pencil barely scraping the paper before darting back up and striking again. His style was odd, he knew that.
The figure that quietly and slowly materialized underneath his pencil was thin and dressed in black, his hair short and light. Vincent sighed and stared at it, not even completed, and tossed the pad off the side of the bed, turning onto his stomach and staring at the wall. He couldn't even draw people correctly...they always came out looking so morbid, so sad. He didn't understand why. He tried to capture the light and happiness that other people seemed to be able to access, but he could never get it completely...
However, Cid had said that he could see it...maybe he couldn't? Perhaps he was turning a blind eye to his own work.
He threw the pencil along with the pad of paper. He hated his drawings.
There was a thump on the door, then a cough and a series of lighter knocks. He pushed himself up and hopped onto the floor, going to the door, not sure of what to expect.
The shorter young man was dressed in ragged, torn clothing, with chains hanging from his pockets and his hair spiked up, still mainly held back by his goggles. He was smiling, a cigarette giving off a gentle curl of smoke. "Heya, Vin! How's it goin'?"
Vincent wasn't sure what to say. He was dressed differently then he had seen before...he hadn't expected it. "Hello..."
"Woah, Vin!" Cid pushed his way past him and closed the door, not waiting for Vincent to invite him inside. "You changed what you're wearin'!"
Vincent looked down. He had been wearing mostly black and dark colors before, along with a larger sweater. He had foregone that currently for a black sleeveless shirt and black jeans, these more ragged and torn then the ones he had been wearing before.
"Holy #$^$!" Cid's eyes widened as he jumped onto Vincent's bed, bouncing around for a while before laying on his stomach, staring at Vincent. "Didn't see your arm either!"
Before Vincent could turn away to hide the deformity, Cid's voice came to him. "#$^#, that's cool. How'd you get that?"
Vincent just gaped at him for a while, causing Cid to smirk in a confident way. "Heh, you're too easy to #$^# with, Vin. That claw thin' IS really cool tho'." Cid bounced backwards until his back was against the wall, giving Vincent enough room to sit down.
"You think so...?" Vincent's fingers brushed against the metal. "I don't like it..."
"Aw c'mon Vin, don't get like that." Cid was staring around the room, taking in everything at once. He noted the window and bounced off the bed to open it, tapping out some ashes as he went. "I know too many #$^#'s that act that way."
Vincent wasn't sure how to respond, so he layed back on his bed, staring at Cid as he breathed a cloud of smoke out the window. "You said you wanted to show me your stories...?"
"Aw #$^#..." Cid turned and rubbed the back of his head. "You really want t'see 'em that bad? They suck @#%..."
Vincent smirked softly. "I thought you didn't like it when people acted that way."
Cid walked back to where Vincent was lying, sitting on the bed so that his back came in contact with Vincent's side as he began typing at the computer nearby. "Blah blah blah, smart@$%. Give me a sec', I have to find 'em..."
Cid was a remarkably fast typer, which somewhat surprised Vincent. He hadn't taken him for the type at first. He personally didn't care for computers, but Cid used it as if he had been born with the knowledge.
Cid put a hand in his spiked hair, then looked back and forth irritably. "Man, you really want t'read 'em that bad? #$^@, I should've put that other one up..."
Vincent pushed Cid out of the way slightly and leaned in front of the computer so he could read the text. Cid began walking around in circles, then tapping his foot repeatedly. He finally just gave up and threw his hands upwards.
"#$^#, I can't stand here, #$^#, I'll be back soon." He then left the room, his feet shuffling.
Vincent understood the kind of anxiety that surrounded having to be present while others evaluated your work and didn't protest when Cid began to wander around the hall. He nudged the door shut with his foot and lay on his stomach, focusing his eyes to read the off-white text on black.
Before he knew it, an hour had gone by. Cid had created his own world, a world that focused completely on the sky, one where everyone was able to fly. The freedom was staggering, but although such an environment seemed so light, the story focused around one whose wings had been clipped, and could never fly. It was dark, involved, and complicated, and Vincent could place himself in the main characters shoes more easily then he thought he would.
He jumped when Cid tapped his shoulder. He looked even more awkward then before and shrugged, laughing nervously. "Stupid, huh? I make up this #$^#in' crazy #$^# before I sleep, that's why it doesn't make any god#$^# sense..."
He turned away and rubbed the back of his head, his blond spikes making a slight rustling noise. "I write 'bout real #$^#in' stupid stuff..."
Vincent turned to face him, staring at him very seriously. "This is one of the best things I've read, Highwind. I am not lying to you."
Cid turned and looked at him, sitting on the bed next to him, looking down. "Y'think so...?"
Vincent nodded.
Cid smiled and laughed slightly. "Highwind?"
Vincent scratched his head, his hair coming free to fall in front of his eyes. "It's a habit I have, I was taught when I was little to refer to everyone by their last name..."
"Serious?" Cid pulled himself up on the bed and crawled over Vincent, setting himself up in Vincent's favorite corner, folding his knees up and putting his arms across them casually. Not prepared for the contact, Vincent stared at him for a moment, but didn't say anything, only getting up himself and going to sit next to Cid near the corner. "That's pretty weird..."
"Yeah..." Vincent sighed and folded his own knees near his chest. "I've been weird my whole life. Even more so after my parents separated..."
"You too?" Cid responded automatically. This caused an awkward pause where the two stared at eachother. They fidgeted, not sure of what to say until Cid finally broke the silence. "I mean...#$^#, it was over me, really...'m a #$^#in' brat, if y'can't tell." Cid smirked to himself and gestured to his shredded clothing. "I really #$^#ed with 'em both tho', but I didn't think it'd do anythin'...I mean, every kid does that, right?..."
He looked down. "I guess they couldn't handle me, so they jus' said '#$$@ it' an' left. M'fault, really, but..." Cid tried to shrug carelessly, but Vincent could tell this was something that bothered him a lot. "Doesn't really matter t'me anyway, I didn't need 'em..."
Cid was tracing circles on the bedspread. Vincent sighed softly. "I don't know why mine decided to divorce. It seemed so...random to me. They seemed so happy, but perhaps I was just being unobservant...I don't know. They split and my mother got possession of me...that was a long time ago..."
"I got m'#$%#in' #$^# of an uncle. He had a stick up the #$%, that's for sure." Cid smiled slightly. "Heh...'s kind of funny when you think about it..."
"What do you mean..." Vincent let one leg slide free, staring at the fabric of his jeans as it bunched up around his knees. Cid moved out of the corner so he was facing Vincent more, kneeling instead of curling up.
"I mean, jus' th' fact that both our families #$%#ed us. That kind of thin'."
"They..." Vincent was about to protest when he realized that he really agreed. He shrugged. "I suppose you're right..."
"Hey Vin, if you don't mind me askin'..." Cid moved to the edge of the bed and leaned over the edge, feeling around underneath. He came up with a piece of paper and a pen, putting them in Vincent's lap before keeling back holding his head. "#$^#in' dizzy spells, I #$^#in' hate those mother#$%#in' #$^#-suckin' sons of-"
Vincent cut him off before he could continue his swearing rant, taking the utensils with his hands quietly. "Dizzy spells...?"
"Yeah, the $%@%ers." Cid growled to himself. "Those #$%#in' doc's said it wasn't a 'serious' #$%#in' problem..." He paused as if thinking about something. "#$^#er's think that pills solve every #$%#in' problem on the god#$%# planet, stupid..."
Vincent pulled his legs back up and took a book of his shelf for backing, quietly speaking as he did so. "They gave you pills?"
"Yeah, t'#$^#in' 'control' m'mood swings an' th' dizzy spells, altho' they don't do jack #$^#. I still think it was m'parent's way of gettin' back at me, #$^#ers..."
"Mood swings...?"
Cid laughed suddenly, startling Vincent slightly. "You haven't #$^#in' noticed yet, Vin? I can't hold a mood for more then two seconds at most...#$^#, they say I got somethin' wron' in my head that makes it hard for me to concentrate, but they're full of #$^#."
Vincent wasn't sure how to respond. "They thought you had a...learning disorder...?"
"@#%@ yeah..." Cid leaned back on the bed, his head on the pillow, so he could look up and see Vincent against the wall. "I jus' #$#^in' hated school, that's all. #$^#ers. Hate 'em all."
Vincent decided to change the topic, not sure of what to say. "Why did you bring me this...?"
"Oh, right." Cid snapped his fingers. "I was wonderin' if you could draw..." Cid's speech tapered off slightly, as if he wasn't sure how to phrase what he wanted to ask. Vincent smiled slightly.
"Draw your characters for you?"
Cid smiled back at him. "Right. You got th' perfect #$^#in' style for 'em, jus' like how I see 'em."
"Really?" Vincent began sketching, his movements quick and light. "You picture them that way...?"
"Sure as @%$%. That's why I saw what you was drawin' and I was like 'that guy, he's got some major #$^#in' talent, he can make 'em real for you' and I asked you what you were drawin' an' stuff."
"I don't have any talent..." Vincent brushed some eraser fragments away. "I just draw for fun..."
Cid made a derisive noise. "Whatthe#$^#in'ever, Vin. Thanks for doin' this for me, tho'."
"It's no problem at all." Vincent began to picture what he was drawing in his head, the form coming out on the paper slowly in all the "wrong" ways. "You are a great writer."
Cid stumbled over his words for a moment before deciding on what to say. "@$^@, everyone before thought I was 'disturbed' an' all that #$^# 'cause I didn't want to live in their little #$%#ed world, stupid #$^#ers. I didn't really show 'em t'anyone, 'cause no one really understands. They thought I was a 'freak' or whatever..." Cid was trying to sound angry, but Vincent could hear tones of sadness underneath his voice. "Stupid #$%#s wouldn't know a story if it bit them in the #$%..."
Cid propped himself up on his elbows and leaned in closer to Vincent, looking at the piece of paper excitedly. "How's it goin'?"
"Here, see?" Vincent turned the paper so he could see it. "I'm not done yet, but how's that?"
"Great, great, $@$@in' perfect!" Cid seemed ecstatic. "This makes everythin' so much more real, this is #$%#in' awesome..."
"Do you want to live in your world...?" Vincent turned the paper back towards himself and began to put in details. "It was different...but it had it's problems as well..."
Cid shrugged. "It's not that I'd want t'LIVE there, really...I jus' think it'd be a neat place if it really was there. I like the place a lot, even tho' it's really #$^#ed in some ways..."
"It does seem like a nice place, despite the setbacks you point out in the story." Vincent worked quietly. "Every place has it's setbacks..."
Cid smiled and leaned back against the wall. "#$^#, y'know it's great t'be able t'talk t'someone who isn't a #$^#in' moron?"
Vincent smiled at that. "I must say likewise."
"Y'don't think I'm stupid 'cause I can't stay focused long, do you?" Cid turned onto his stomach and looked up at Vin, wincing slightly as a minor dizziness overtook him. "A lot of people do, I mean a #$^#in' ton..."
Vincent shook his head slowly and brushed his hair behind his ear. "No, that never occured to me."
Cid put his arms on the pillow and rested his chin on his hands. "This's great, #$^#in' great, finally got someone who doesn't think I'm a #$^#in' moron..."
Vincent brushed off his drawing and handed the paper to the blonde young man. "Here. Again, I must say likewise."
Cid took the paper carefully and sat up, smiling broadly. "Can I really keep this?"
Vincent nodded.
"Alright!" Cid hopped off the bed, leaning against a post for a second then coming back to his center. Vincent studied his face during his movement and noticed slight twitches in his face. He was blocking out all signs of showing pain...
"Are you going?"
Vincent's question cause another awkward silence, where Cid toyed with the top of the paper and Vincent fidgeted. Cid finally turned back towards him.
"Do you want me to? I mean, if you do, I will, I mean...I jus' thought y'know, you'd want me out of the room or somethin', 'cause..."
Vincent shook his head and leaned back. Cid took the invitation and crawled back onto the bed, the paper carefully placed on the desk. He sat next to Vincent, and the dark-haired young man reached over and picked up the remote for the TV.
"Hey Vin, how old are you?" Cid looked at him as the TV flickered on. Vincent blinked.
"Why do you ask?"
"Well, I'm always #$#@in' younger then everyone around me, it's a big pain in the #$%." The way that Cid pronounced the obscenity caused Vincent to laugh slightly. "So I was just curious."
"I'll be nineteen this October..."
Cid muttered. "#$%@, not again. $^@# you, you old man."
Vincent laughed out loud at that. Cid smirked and continued. "Yeah, I've seen you an' your old man buddies all laughin' behind my back, you sick old #$^#s, I'm onto you! I'll get you yet! 'Cause if the heat doesn't kill th' old people, I wiiiiiilllll."
"Stop, stop!" Vincent wasn't used to laughing and he tried to keep his voice under control. "You're terrible."
Cid leaned back and stole the remote from Vincent efficiently. "That's right, I'm lookin' for trouble with a capital Cid Highwind, buddy!"
Vincent laughed again, and Cid began flipping through channels.
The hours went by quickly and easily, the two commenting and laughing at things that came on, making them funny if they weren't originally. Vincent felt more at ease then he ever had before and even made comments that he normally never would have made.
It was only the sound of the key in the lock that reminded them that Vincent wasn't the only inhabitant of the room.
"Oh, my roommates back..."
"#$^#. That ruins all our fun." Cid gave Vincent back the remote. "I should probably go anyway."
"Alright..." Vincent wasn't sure how to feel. "You should come by again sometime, it was fun..."
Cid nodded and smiled, hopping off the bed just in time to collide with Cloud as he was entering.
"Woah, sorry buddy." Cid slid past him and was gone within a moment. Cloud watched him go, rubbing where they had collided with an odd expression on his face.
"Who was that...?"
Vincent paused for a moment, placing the remote back on the desk, where he noticed that Cid had left his picture. "A...a friend."
"Right." Cloud walked across the room and picked up his bag, turning around again to head out. "I'm going out again."
Cloud had learned, even in such a short time, that asking Vincent to come with him was useless. Vincent watched Cloud turn and go, the door clicking behind him.
He slid the piece of paper off the desk and looked at it, thinking about Cid's reaction to his scribbles. His drawings really did seem to make him happy...
He drew a few more of the characters that showed up in the story around the edges of the main one in the center, then a small attempt at a chibi version of himself in the corner. As usual, it looked far too depressing, and he sighed. He slid off the bed and pulled on a black jacket, opening the door. He wasn't sure where Cid's room was, but considering he had nothing better to do tonight, he was going to find it to give him his drawing.

~~~
It took quite a bit of work to find out where his room was. He asked information and even resorted to asking his classmates if they knew where he was. As it turned out, Cid lived about two dorms away, a fair walking distance. Vincent didn't mind particularly and felt more relieved after he knew where he was going.
He was holding the paper in one hand, feeling the slight breeze rustle it against his metal claws. It was still late summer, and the air was warm, the night clear. It was a nice night for a walk, so Vincent enjoyed the physical activity.
He entered the dorm and headed up the three flights of stairs that were required to find his room. Noting the noises from downstairs and the random shouts he heard, this dorm was far more active then his own.
Cid's room should be somewhere near the center...
He walked down the hall, staying close to the wall, studying the doors as he walked along. Most of them blended in with eachother, and it was difficult for him to distinguish one from another. Some doors were open, and the inhabitants inside all seemed to be having a good time.
He finally spotted a door that had Cid's name written at the top, along with a small pair of wings coming out of the capital letters of his name. The rest of the door was completely taken over by his roommate, pictures and phrases and words dominating the entire thing.
Vincent steeled himself and walked forward, knocking on the door softly. He waited while there were some noises from inside and finally the door opened, the blaring of the television very clear. The person standing in it wasn't Cid, however. This young man had bright red hair, held back with a different kind of goggles then Cid's, and deep scars underneath his eyes.
"What d'you want?"
Vincent paused, not sure how to react, unconsciously moving his arm behind his back, even though it wasn't clearly visible to begin with. "Um...I'm looking for Highwind..."
The red-haired male made a derisive noise and turned around. "Hey, someone's here for you."
"Really?" There was a scrambling from inside and Cid replaced the previous answerer. He was still dressed the same, although he looked more tired then he had before. The shock on his face was clear. "Vin? What the @#%$?"
Vincent felt even more awkward now then he had before. He took the paper with his flesh hand and held it out. "I...I came to give you this...you left it in my room..."
Cid took the paper slowly, and the happiness that flashed across his face when he saw what it was was painfully clear. "Alright! Can't #$^#in' believe I forgot this..."
The TV behind him turned up a few notches and Cid looked very awkward as he stepped out of the room and closed the door. "Look, Vin, I don't want to be a selfish #$#% but...can we go back t'your room?"
"Why?" Vincent's voice was quite and nervousness he was feeling before had lessened somewhat with the sound Cid's familiar voice. Cid rubbed the back of his head and looked awkward again.
"Just 'cause...c'mon, let's go, the guys here are #$^#s anyway..." Cid began walking, and Vincent followed him quietly.
"Alright...Cloud left anyway, so it's alright..." Vincent looked back at the room. Cid stopped abruptly and turned.
"Oh @$@%, almost forgot!" He headed back to his room, pulling out his key from his pants and opening the door.
Cid darted in and out again amazingly quickly, something shoved into his pocket. He closed the door and returned to Vincent.
They resumed walking. Cid apparently felt uncomfortable about the silence and began talking. "So Cloud's the name of your roommate?"
"Yes..." Vincent nodded slightly, again staying close to the wall. Cid walked directly down the center of the hallway, his hands in his pockets, slouching terribly. "He's gone a lot of the time..."
"Lucky." Cid remarked offhandedly. "Know when he's comin' back?"
Vincent shook his head. "I don't know what he does, but he usually doesn't come back until I'm asleep...we have classes tomorrow, so he has to be back at some point..."
"Right, when's your class?" They began walking down the stairs.
"...Sometime in the midday, really...I think after twelve..."
"Great, so's mine!" Cid smiled brightly. "Maybe we have the same class!"
"What's yours...?" Vincent didn't want to volunteer information first, it wasn't something that agreed with him. Cid looked thoughtful for a few seconds.
"I forget right now, but I got my schedule in my pocket somewhere, it's no big deal." He smiled again. "Keep everythin' in these pockets, I love these things."
Vincent smiled gently as they walked outside. "Yes, I can tell."
Cid paused and held his foot out, staring at the ragged remains of the bottoms of his pants and laughed. "Yeah, I really beat the #$^# out of stuff like this. Used to drive my parents #$^#in' nuts."
"I could guess." Vincent continued walking, watching as Cid sped up slightly to walk alongside him. "Whenever my clothing got in bad shape, they threw it out or had it repaired...so I never really had clothing with rips in it like yours..."
Cid laughed quietly for a few seconds, then smiled. "Most of it isn't jus' me wearin' it anyway, I rip 'em up on purpose. I like doin' stuff like that, it's weird."
Cid paused awkwardly after what he said, apparently debating whether or not he should have said that. Vincent nodded, not wanting to frighten him away. "Right, I know what you mean...that kind of desire to destroy something..."
Vincent had never admitted to anyone that he felt that way and paused in much the same way that Cid had, feeling embarassed. When he looked back at him, Cid was staring at him in wonder. "#$^#, I didn't know other people wanted t'do that. I thought it was jus' another reason I was #^#$ed up."
"You know..." Vincent turned as they approached his dorm. "You look down on yourself a surprising amount..."
"Yeah, I know. @$@# if I tell anyone tho'." Cid opened the door and walked into the dorm, waiting for Vincent to follow. "Enough people #$%#in' angst without me addin' to it."
"Is that why you never..." Vincent thought about what he was going to say, then decided against it. Cid seemed to be able to tell.
"What?"
"...you know that I don't think to highly of myself..." Vincent touched his metal arm through the cloth softly. "That's why I don't talk to people, but you seem really open to me...is it that...you hide how you feel...?"
Cid paused for a moment, staring at Vincent with various expressions, then shrugged carelessly, laughing in a way that Vincent could tell was covering how he felt. "#$^#, everyone does, Vin. I'm not the only one."
Vincent could tell that he was making Cid uncomfortable and decided to change the subject as he unlocked his door. "...Who's your roommate?"
"Ah, his name's Reno. Real #%#^, that one." Cid crawled back onto Vincent's bed and moved instantly into the corner. "Ain't got any sense of personal space."
"What do you mean?" Vincent sat next to Cid in the corner, taking the remote with him.
"He throws his stuff all over th' room, it's a #$^$in' pain." Cid's response seemed almost automatic. Vincent turned on the television, somewhat bothered by how he kept catching glimpses of how Cid really felt about things, then getting thrown off course. Cid reached into his pocket.
"What did you bring with you, anyway...?"
"I managed to get someone to get me some @#$%in' liquor..." Cid pulled a bottle from one of his seemingly bottomless pockets. "#$^#in' cost me tons, tho', but..." he shrugged. "I can't really do anything about it."
Vincent nodded. He could sense by how sensitive Cid was about his smoking, how he had gone to the window and extinguished his cigarette shortly after and how he wasn't smoking now, that he was aware of how his addictions could hurt or annoy other people. He must have trusted Vincent greatly to want to drink in front of him...Cid didn't seem to talk about his addictions at all.
Vincent changed the channel. "I understand."
Cid smirked and uncapped the bottle. "I thought you would."
Vincent changed the channel again as Cid took a drink from the bottle. He paused before speaking again. "Should warn you tho', I saw some pretty stupid #$^# when I'm drunk, an' do even stupider #$%#."
"It's alright." Vincent wasn't sure of what else to say. He couldn't very well stop him, and he didn't want to push him away. Cid was trusting him here, and he didn't want to break that trust. He could tell by how desperatly Cid seemed to be hanging around him that having a friend like him was something that he wasn't used to. "I don't mind."
"Right." Cid raised the bottle to his lips again, gently taking the remote from Vincent's hands instead of forcefully as he had done before. "Thanks."
"Your welcome." was the only response that Vincent could think of.
The night went by as quickly as it had before. Cid was quiet at first, but after a while he began to talk, and as he did he didn't stop. He talked about anything that seemed to cross his mind while he watched the TV, and as the night wore on he changed channels faster and faster. He also flicked off the light at one point, and told Vincent it was because he didn't want him to see how much he had drunk. Vincent assumed it was because he thought that he would tell him to stop, but as it was Vincent was just sitting and listening, something that he was used to doing and had gotten very good at.
Cid rambled on and on about anything he saw on the TV that captured his attention or bothered him. He talked about the flat characters he saw in shows, how he would change the plot to do this or that, how he wanted a certain thing he saw in a commercial and how other commercials really bothered him, and how sometimes changing channels was soothing in itself, even if he liked the show. He felt like he had to constantly be changing channels to make sure that he wasn't missing something. The more that he talked, the more that he began to talk about himself and how he thought without hiding behind metaphors or TV shows. Vincent listened as Cid talked about how he felt alone a lot of the time, about how he felt like he could never fit in with anyone else, about he felt like his universe was trite and stupid, or that he could never really write for a living. He talked about how he wanted to fly, to just fly away from everything, and just give up on the world itself sometimes, because it seemed to hate him so much. Through all of this, Vincent stayed quiet and listened. Through all of it Cid began to lean on him rather heavily, his hand not even in the air anymore as he changed channels, his voice listing.
"Y'prolly hate me now, don't you, Vin...?" Cid's voice was soft as he leaned his head against his shoulder. "I'm such a stupid #$^# when I drink...'s a bad habit..."
"I don't hate you, Highwind." It took some effort to make his throat work again, and Vincent wondered just how long it had been since he had spoken. "You haven't done anything wrong at all."
"#$^# I haven't..." Cid gestured at to the obviously empty bottle by his side. "I'm #$^#in' smashed..."
Vincent wasn't sure of what else to do and, seeing that the blonde looked somewhat shaken, he rubbed his back softly. "There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing that I can see, anyway."
Cid paused for a minute and put the remote down quietly. He then turned and hugged Vincent fiercely, hiding his face in his chest. Vincent stared at him in surprise, not sure of how to respond.
"'M scared, Vin...'m #$^#in' scared an' too god#$^# #$^#in' lonely..."
Vincent rubbed his back gently again, not sure of how else to react. "It's alright, Highwind. I'll be here for you, if you want me to be."
Cid seemed to have drifted off into sleep, his tight hold loosening as he didn't respond. Vincent took the remote from where Cid had left it and turned the volume down on the TV, changing the channel again. He watched a sitcom without laughing, waiting for Cid to wake up or say something. Eventually he became concerned and shook his shoulder gently.
"Highwind, it's getting late...don't you want to go back to your room...?"
Cid mumbled sleepily. "Don' wan'a...'e's mean t'me...wan' stay here..."
Vincent's mind instantly told him in several dozen ways how this would be a bad idea. However, he didn't listen. "Alright, if that's what you want. You can stay with me."
Cid mumbled something unintelligible and seemed to drift off again. Vincent changed the channel again, then looked at the empty bottle, listing to one side. He picked it up with one hand and put behind some of his books, where he could get rid of it later. Cid jerked sharply at his movement and clutched the fabric of his shirt tightly.
"What are y'doin', are y'movin', what the #$%#...what are y'doin..."
"Shh." Vincent moved his arm back to where it had been before, which calmed him down a bit. "I'm not going anywhere, I was just moving the bottle, that's all..."
"#$^#, 'm sorry, #$#^, 'm a #$^#in' #$^#%@, never should'a done this t'you..." Cid was mumbling to himself now, repeating certain words. It was reminscient of how he rambled while watching the television. Vincent put his hand back on his shoulder.
"It's okay, Highwind, nothing's wrong. It's fine."
Cid stopped mumbling slowly and stopped talking entirely, apparently going back to sleep. Vincent leaned back against the wall, wondering what he was going to do. He didn't want to leave Cid alone or make him go back to his room if he didn't really want to, but he couldn't just let him stay in his room...
Could he...?
Vincent gently shook Cid awake again. "Highwind, I'm going to go change, alright? I'll be back soon."
Cid clutched his shirt tightly. "Don' go, don' go, don' go..."
Vincent gently detached his hands from his shirt. "It's alright, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be a few feet away and I'll come back, alright? Nothing is going to happen."
Cid didn't replace his hands, but he curled up tightly instead, not saying anything. Vincent moved off the bed and walked to the dresser, picking out his sleeping clothes. His mind was screaming at him to stop, to tell him to go away, to do SOMEthing that didn't involve the blond staying, but he didn't listen. He changed clothes quietly and returned to the bed, finding that Cid had gravitated to the corner and was still curled up tightly. He moved the covers, causing him to start and roll towards him.
"Are you alright?" Vincent pulled the sheets from underneath him, causing Cid to move in confusion, not sure of what was going on. "See, I'm back, nothing happened."
As soon as Vincent had settled, Cid had immediately replaced himself, holding onto Vincent tightly and desperatly. "#$%#, I was #$^#in' scared y'wouldn't come back at all, #$^# Vin, jesus..."
"It's alright, see? I didn't go anywhere." Vincent patted his head, trying to think of a way to calm him down. "I'm fine."
"#$#@in' scared t'death..." Cid mumbled, holding onto him more tightly then ever. The warmth that Cid was generating was considerable, and Vincent could feel it through his clothes very easily. Vincent pulled the blankets over both of them.
"Just go to sleep, Highwind. Everything will be fine, I promise."
"'Kay..." Cid's voice was very soft. "If y'say so..."

~~~
Vincent woke to the rays of sunlight warming his face. Still feeling tired, he threw his left arm over his eyes, ignoring the shock of metal, and tried to turn away, only to find something blocking him. Mildly confused, he moved his arm and looked down at his chest, finding a bed of soft blonde spikes. It only took a moment for the entire evening to come rushing back to him. He pushed himself up with his free arm, holding Cid down gently so as not to disturb him. He leaned against the wall and watched Cid breathe quietly, still clinging to him tightly. He wondered for a moment how he must feel. Did he feel sick? Was he alright...?
Would he regret his actions...?
"You know, the next time you want to have people stay in the room, could you please tell me in advance?"
Vincent turned his head sharply to see Cloud staring at him, his arms crossed and an indecipherable look on his face. Shock kept him from saying anything, so Cloud simply turned and picked up his bag from the floor, opening the door and leaving without a word.
Vincent wasn't quite aware of what had just happened for a while, and the true meaning of what had happened finally hit him, causing him to sigh deeply and put a free hand to his head. Cid stirred slightly and looked up at him, looking confused.
"What the #$^#...?"
"I'm afraid we're in for a bit of trouble, Highwind..." Vincent's voice was soft.
"How the #$%# did I..." Cid looked around, then withdrew his arms sharply from around Vincent's middle, backing against a wall. "Oh #$^$! I'm sorry, jesus @#%$in' christ..."
"No, no, it's alright, it's okay." Vincent tried to placate Cid, who was holding his head in what seemed to be pain. "Are you alright?"
Cid made a pained noise. "#$^#, my head hurts..."
Vincent got out of bed and moved across the room, shuttin the blinds. On the way back he chanced a look at the desk clock and found they had only a few minutes before their class began. Not wanting to panic Cid, he moved to his dresser and began to pick out what he would wear for the day.
"#@$^, #$^@, #$^@..." Cid dragged himself out from under the blankets, holding his head in both hands. "What did I do, Vin? I don't remember anythin', #^#@, tell me I didn't do anythin' stupid..."
Vincent sighed slightly, realizing that most of last night would only belong to him. He quietly gestured for Cid to turn away, which he did quietly, while he changed into a black t-shirt and a different pair of black jeans.
"You didn't do anything, Highwind...you talked a lot, and you fell asleep. That's all." Vincent changed quickly and walked back to where Cid was staring fixedly at the wall.
"Did I say some stupid #$^%? I know I must've, #$^#, I'm sorry..."
"No, it's alright. You didn't say anything bad at all." Vincent sat on the chair near his desk. "Nothing happened."
"#$^@...I #^$#in' curled up to you, what about that?" Cid looked at Vincent, and he looked extremely pained. Vincent was surprised to the extent which Cid seemed to be reacting to what had happened. "#$^#, I hate it when I do this, I #$^#in' hate this..."
"Highwind, would I have let you if it bothered me? It's okay. But at the moment, there's a more pressing concern..."
"What?"
"We still have to go to class."
Cid stared at him for a few seconds, then clenched his fists. "#$^#! #$^#, I can't go like this, #$^#..."
Cid looked down at his rumpled and stained clothes. "#$^#..."
"Here, you can borrow some of mine if you want, I should have some that will fit you..." Vincent headed back to his dresser. "You can give them back later, we don't have time to go back to your room..."
"What about my bag?" Cid slid onto the floor, holding his head. "#$^#, my head hurts..."
"You can borrow some of my paper, it's nothing." Vincent pulled out a dark grey shirt and yet another pair of black jeans. He turned to Cid, holding them out. "Sorry, these are the lightest things I have..."
"#$^@..." Cid took them and headed towards a corner of the room. Vincent turned and faced a wall, trying to catch Cid's angry mumbling.
"It'll be okay, Highwind. Nothing happened, no harm done."
"@#$@ Vin, I hate it when I do this to people..." Cid tapped Vincent's shoulder, causing him to jump. The clothes seemed to list slightly off Cid's smaller frame, but other then that they seemed to fit. Cid looked around the room, then finally brushed his hands over his head rapidly, causing the spikes to flatten and flare out in a somewhat more tame way. "I #$^#in' hate bein' so #$^#in' clingy...y'wouldn't believe how many times it's #^#%ed me over..."
"Look, it's alright." Vincent put his hands on Cid's shoulders. "Everyone has to cling to someone sometime. There's nothing wrong with that."
Cid held out a piece of paper to Vincent, who took it quietly. He scanned it, then handed it back to him. "And I guess we do have the same class. I think we'll be able to make it in time."
Vincent opened the door, letting Cid walk out first, and let it click behind him. When he turned, Cid was glaring at someone in the hallway who was staring at him.
"What the #$^# you lookin' at?"
The other person walked away, not saying anything, and Cid made an angry noise. He began walking, Vincent following along behind him.
They walked in silence for a while, then Vincent leaned closer to Cid. "Have you noticed something, Highwind?"
"What?" Cid seemed extremely irritable with everyone.
"Everyone is staring at us..."
"That's #$^#in' great for them, then." Cid flipped off one of those that Vincent was talking about, causing them to turn away quickly. "#$^#in' nosy @#$%@s."
"I just find it strange..." Vincent brushed back his hair, wishing he had brought his headband with him. His hair just refused to be controlled otherwise.
They made it to class only a few minutes late, but the professor had already begun talking. Vincent had always been hesitant to enter classes that had already begun, but Cid seemed to have no such reservations. He opened the door and walked right in as if nothing seemed to bother him, Vincent trailing behind him.
There was an palpable pause as the two made their way to two empty seats near the back of the room. All eyes seemed to be on the two as they sat down, Cid flopping in his chair almost angrily and Vincent putting down his bag softly. The professor coughed and looked at the two of them.
"And you are...?"
"Vincent Valentine."
"Cid Highwind." Cid added something under his breath that Vincent couldn't catch, but could guess wasn't flattering.
"Well...I'll excuse your tardiness today, but I don't want this to be repeated."
The two nodded, Cid's arms crossed.
"For those who missed it..." He looked at the two in the back. "My name is Professor Hojo."
Cid and Vincent didn't react. After a short pause, the professor resumed speaking, and class continued on.
It was only a few minutes in before Cid leaned close to Vincent and whispered to him. "#$^#, my head hurts like a #$^#in' #$^@#. #$^@in' hangover."
Vincent kept his eyes on his paper at all times, even when others were speaking to him, and he was sketching something lightly. He hadn't had much time to think of what to draw or how, so the sketch at the moment could become anything. The concern in his whispered response was evident. "I'm not sure what to do...we should probably go get something for you to eat after this...that would help, wouldn't it...?"
"I guess...but my stomach's #$^#in' beatin' the #$^# out've me right now."
Vincent chanced a glance upwards to see if anyone was noticing their conversation. "Highwind, they're staring at us again."
Cid made an angry noise under his breath. "#$^#ers."
"It's probably because you're dressed like me."
Cid started slightly, then looked at himself. "Woah, forgot about that."
Vincent smiled slightly, his sketch taking form as two people sleeping together. "It's probably nothing."
"Well, @$%@ this class." Cid rested his arms on the table, his head soon following suit. "I'm goin' to get some sleep to get my head to #$^#in' shut up. Tell me if I miss anythin' important."
"Alright." Vincent responded quietly, working on darkening the outlines of his sketch. It wasn't anyone that he knew, but the position was very familiar. He smiled slightly as the drone of Prof. Hojo seemed very far away. Thinking back to last night, to Cid's frightened voice talking about how lonely he was, he realized that he had finally found a true friend. That was something that was going to take some getting used to.
"Cid!"
Vincent started sharply as he heard the blonde's name called and nudged him. Cid jerked upwards in surprise, looking back and forth in confusion.
"Cid, are you paying attention?"
"#$^# yeah." Cid responded without thinking, then put a hand to his head in what seemed to be pain. There seemed to be a slight giggle from the rest of the class. Vincent tried to remember what Hojo had been talking about before he had been startled out of his drawing reverie. He could only remember vague concepts, but he was sure he could fill in the rest.
"Very nicely put." Hojo's sarcasm was clear. "So tell me, what do you think about the ninth treatise on love?"
Vincent thought hard as Cid scratched his head, trying to stall for time. "#$^#, um..."
"Highwind, it's shallow." Vincent tried to whisper without looking as if he was. "Shallow and contrived."
Cid seemed to hear him, but didn't show it. "It was shallow. Shallow and contrived."
"So then tell me, Cid, what is your idea of love?"
Everyone stared at him now, apparently interested in his answer. Cid paused again, scratching his head.
"Well...I guess love is acceptance, really. No matter what #^#@ the other person does, or who they are, or any of that #$^#...I think it's really just acceptin' who they are. I think that's really love..."
Cid had turned his eyes down, not sure of how else to act. Vincent felt like the eyes were boring holes in him, they were staring so hard.
"So, Cid, you think love is love, no matter what?"
The more answers were demanded of him, the less inclined Cid was to answer them. Vincent didn't envy the headache he must have at the moment. Cid kept his eyes down, playing with some of the remaining spikes as he tried to think of something to say.
"@#$%, I guess so...I don't know..."
Prof. Hojo stared at him, as if considering asking him another question, then turned back to the board, underlining something he had written down there. He continued speaking, and Cid slouched down in his chair holding his head. Vincent turned to him in concern.
"Are you alright...?"
"#$^#, can't deal with this right now, Vin, what a pain in the #$^..." Cid slumped back down over his desk, his head back on his arms. "#$^#..."
Vincent patted his back softly. "Don't worry about it, it'll be alright."
"Vincent!"
Vincent turned to the front silently, his hand automatically returning to his paper. He inclined his head slightly to show that he had heard him, and Hojo seemed to imitate him in a mocking way. "Why don't you come up here?"
Vincent didn't trust this, but he put his pencil down. He sighed as he remembered the other times he had been asked up to the front by teachers and resigned himself to the upcoming humiliation. He touched Cid's arm before he went in a silent farewell, not sure if he was awake to hear what was happening, and headed up.
He stood in front of the class, hiding his arm behind his back as he usually did. Prof. Hojo stared at him critically, and Vincent waited for the question that would be turned against him if he answered truthfully.
"Tell me, Vincent..." Hojo crossed his arms. "Do you agree with nine's theory that love transpasses all physical boundaries?"
Vincent moved his other arm behind his back, taking hold of his metallic arm, feeling extremely awkward. "I suppose, although I don't believe it really applies in nine's case-"
Prof. Hojo cut him off. "Do you believe, Vincent, that love is a worthwhile investment of one's time?"
Vincent felt more and more awkward as he could feel people staring at him. He hated people staring at him. "I don't think you can choose who you love or when you love...therefore, it's pointless to argue that it's not a good investment of your time because it's not something you control..."
"So love is beyond control?"
Vincent wasn't sure if he even believed what he was saying, faced with the cold tone in Hojo's voice and the continued staring of the other students. He sighed slightly. "I believe so, yes..."
"And love is beyond physical limits or boundaries?"
Vincent rubbed his flesh arm with his metal one, feeling the edges of his claws scrape across his skin. "I believe so, yes..."
"Do you believe that people will even love a monster?"
Vincent paused for a while, his eyes turned to the ground. He fidgeted slightly, his hair drifting over his shoulder.
"As previously stated, physical limitations have no bearing..."
Hojo crossed his arms and seemed to look at the class. Vincent couldn't even bear to look at his face, it seemed so superior and cold. "So, say, even if someone had some kind of...physical deformity..."
Vincent's claw seemed to contract against his will against his arm, and he inhaled sharply as he knew he broke skin unintentionally.
"Someone could still love them...?" Prof. Hojo turned towards him, a sadistic smirk on his face. "Someone could still love them, despite their deformity and perhaps their very being...?"
Vincent tried to make his claw unclench, but it was a reflex that refused to let go under the tension he was in. He looked upwards slightly and caught Cid's eyes from the back. He was watching. He could sense the fury emanating from his gaze, the frustration. Prof. Hojo took this in with some quiet movements of his eyes and smirked again.
"Perhaps even if they were...say...the same sex...? Would love still be possible?"
Vincent's claw clenched tighter against his arm. He knew he was being led on, he knew there was no right way to answer this question. He lowered his eyes back to the ground, hearing the rest of the class talking amongst themselves. He could still feel their eyes on him. He let his hair fall forward, masking his face.
"I...I guess..."
"I didn't hear you, I'm sorry." Vincent was taken aback by the sheer malice and amusement that seemed to blend in the professors tone. "Could you please repeat that, louder? So that we can all hear you? After all, it's important to stand behind what you believe."
The class seemed to snicker slightly, and Vincent forced himself to look up, trying to find something he could stare at that wouldn't be incriminating. His gaze glanced back at Cid, who seemed to almost be crouching in his chair, glaring at Hojo venemously. He tried to move his eyes away again, but he knew that this time Hojo wasn't the only one who caught the stare. He turned his eyes to the window, the whispers increasing as he tried to stop the heat from rising to his face.
"Yes...I think it's possible..."
"Do you really?" Prof. Hojo turned to the board and began writing something. Vincent didn't want to turn around, to reveal that he had caused his own arm to bleed because of tension. "You think that love can transverse everything, including physical appearance and sex?"
Vincent's claw was digging in deeper, and he was beginning to feel the stinging going up his arm. The eyes continued to stare at him. "Yes..."
"So tell me one more thing, Vincent, before you return to your seat..." Hojo returned to stand next to Vincent, his arms crossed and the smirk back on his face. "Do you think that people who are in love begin to resemble one another?"
He knew that there was no right answer again, not even if he lied. A dull noise came from the back of the room, and he looked up to find Cid had punched the wall rather hard and seemed to be snarling to himself. Hojo glanced in that direction momentarily, then returned his gaze to Vincent, the acidic tone back in his voice. "What do you think?"
Vincent remained silent, not wanting to answer, but knowing that silence was no less incriminating. Prof. Hojo took the opportunity. "Begin to act alike, talk alike...even...say...dress alike...? What do you think, Vincent? We all want your opinion."
Vincent's claw was causing his other arm to go numb. He tried to force it free, but he couldn't make it let go. He didn't want to be asked to be repeated again, so he made sure that his answer was clear, although he didn't want to give it. "I...I would suppose so..."
Prof. Hojo clapped twice, then gestured to the back of the room with his thin hand. "You may sit down, Vincent. You've said more then enough."
Vincent could still feel the eyes staring at him as he walked back up to his seat, wishing that he had been able to control himself. He could feel something sliding down his arm, he knew he was bleeding. His claw refused to let go until he was sitting down, and he stared at it underneath the desk, the tips shining red. He wanted to put his hands to his head, but he didn't want to get blood in his hair...
Cid was just cursing under his breath when Vincent sat down, but as soon as he saw his arm, he hissed sharply. "#$^#in' Christ, Vin, what the #$^# did you do?"
Vincent didn't feel like talking, feeling as though he had been betrayed by his own tongue, although he hadn't even intended on saying anything. He let his head fall onto his desk, still feeling the burning sensation of people staring at him.
"#$^#, Vin? Vin, are you okay? #@$^..." Cid mumbled under his breath. Cid looked upwards and found that Prof. Hojo hadn't even resumed talking, only staring at the two of them with a kind of detached interest. Cid glared at him in pure hatred.
"Hey, Vin needs some #$^#in' help." Cid stood up, taking a hold of Vincent's shoulder and pulling him up as well. Cid noted the complete lack of resistance that Vincent seemed to put up, and his refusal to show any kind of facial expression. Cid vaguely remembered Vincent mentioning something about how he locked up in front of people and assumed that he had completely locked himself away in an effort to deal with what was going on. He began walking down the aisle, hearing the soft snickers of those around him and trying to ignore them. Vincent followed him passively. Prof. Hojo continued to have that smirk on his face that Cid was rapidly growing to hate. Cid glared at Hojo, drawing himself up to his full height in front of him, which didn't amount to much, and walked out of the room. "We'll be back soon."
Cid slammed the door behind him and began cursing as soon as he did. "Those mother#$^#in' pieces of #$^#in' #$^#, what the #$^#..."
Vincent was staring at his bleeding arm, his face completely passive. When he spoke, his voice was completely emotionless. "I didn't intend to hurt myself. It was beyond my control. I'm bleeding rather badly."
"#$^#..." Cid looked around, not sure of what else to do. He dragged Vincent to the bathroom, letting go while he looked around for something to use to take care of the wound. Vincent stood quietly, his face still having a lost, faraway look.
"C'mon Vin, we got to #$^#in' clean your arm up. Mother#^$#..." Cid dragged Vincent to a sink and held his arm underneath it. Vincent didn't protest or help, only letting Cid wash away the blood angrily. "What the #$^# does that #$%^in' pompous #$% think he's doin', #$^#er...can't #$^#in' believe this #$^#..."
When his arm was clean, it was clear that Vincent had five small open slits in his arm that were still bleeding, although not too heavily. "#$^#..."
Cid pulled out a small knife from one of his pockets and clicked it open. He took the edge of the grey shirt angrily. "Sorry about your shirt Vin but..."
He ripped off a portion of the bottom, washing it off in the sink before wrapping it tightly around Vincent's arm, tying it off. "Got to stop this #$^#in' bleedin'..."
Cid looked at Vincent's face, which was still very far away. He shook his shoulders softly. "Vin? Vin, are you #$^#in' listenin' to me? Vin?"
Vincent looked down at him. "Highwind..." His eyes softened slightly. "You do realize that from now on, we're...we're..."
"#$^#ed?" Cid supplied and shook his head. He brushed a wet hand through his hair. "That's what I would #$^#in' guess. #$^#."
Vincent looked at his claws and finally made some movements of his own, washing off the tips with the same expressionless face. "This is my fault...I'm sorry, Highwind."
"$%^$, if this's anybody's #$^@in' fault it's that $%^# Hojo's, so shut the #$^# up." Cid took a hold of Vincent's arm. "Don't #$^#in' blame yourself for his #$^#in' trick questions."
Vincent shook off his claw quietly. "I shouldn't have said anything..."
"#$^# 'em!" Cid shouted, causing Vincent to break out of his stoic shell for a moment and stare at him in surprise. "#$^# 'em all, Vin! Who the #$^# cares, alright?" Cid turned and punched the wall viciously. "Who the #^#$in' #$^# cares? Let 'em #^#%in' think all the #$^#in' stupid #$^#in' #$^# they want, I don't give a flyin' #$^#! An' you shouldn't either!"
Vincent stared at him and finally raised his claw arm to stop Cid's arm from raising again. The anger and sudden burst of violence had surprised him, and he was worried. "Highwind, calm down, it's alright."
Cid smiled at him in relief, but Vincent could still see the lingering traces of anger in his eyes. "There's the Vin I know. Those stupid #$^#s don't know a #$#^in' thin', alright? Let 'em #$%^in' talk. I don't #$^#in' care. I know what's $%&@in' true an what #$%&in' ain't, and that's all that $%#@in' counts."
Vincent touched the impromptu bandage on his arm. "...we should go back..."
"#$^#." Cid crossed his arms and put a hand to his head, sighing deeply. "#^#%, wish I had a #$^#in' cig right now. Mother#$^#er..."
"It's alright." Vincent shook his head slightly, running his flesh hand through his hair, pushing it back. "I'll be okay, don't worry. I'm sorry if I frightened you, I've done that ever since I was a child..."
"Lock up?" Cid turned and headed for the door, hearing Vincent's soft footsteps behind him. "#$^#, it's okay, Vin."
Vincent sighed as they headed down the hallway. "I wish that I wouldn't have to endure their eyes again..."
"$%%%%%%@$ their eyes." Cid held out his arms light-heartedly. "Don't worry about 'em, Vin. They're #$^#ers."
Vincent smiled slightly. Cid took this a chance to continue on. "Huge #$^#ers. In fact, in my entire #^#%in' life, they're the biggest #^#%er's I've ever known! In fact-"
"Shh." Vincent put his hand on the door to the room. "Keep it down."
"Right." Cid took a deep breath as Vincent opened the door.
Prof. Hojo was writing something on the board, but turned as the two entered the room again. Vincent's claw instantly moved behind his back and the two remained in the doorway, as if waiting for him to say something before moving any further. Everyone turned to look.
"Ah, so you two are back." Prof. Hojo's voice was cold, and he looked at the grey fabric around Vincent's arm quietly, immediately assessing where it had come from. "I trust you didn't have any...difficulties?"
More quiet snickering. Cid took Vincent's arm, who seemed to have locked up again and dragged him forward, muttering under his breath. "No, you mother#$^@er."
"What was that?" Prof. Hojo's voice lost the quietly amused tone it had before and immediately became dangerous. Cid seemed to snarl in his throat quietly before responding.
"Nothing."
"Hmm." Prof. Hojo leaned back and crossed his arms. Cid walked up the aisle towards their seats in the back, mumbling under his breath the entire time. He waited until the two were seated before speaking again, quiet clearly and carefully. "I'm glad you managed to take care of him, Cid. However, I think that is to be expected...you are his..."
Cid clenched his fists and felt his nails digging into his skin. His knuckles were already aching from when he had punched the wall before. He wished he had his gloves, they gave him an extra layer of protection when he felt like punching things. Hojo paused on purpose before continuing, seeming to be studying Cid's reaction. "...friend, are you not?"
Cid didn't say anything, only glaring daggers at him. He knew that anything he said would just be turned against him like it had to Vincent. His headache was coming back in full force now and he winced as a wave of dizziness overtook him. He refused to show anything, watching Hojo turn back to the board and continue speaking.
Waiting for the black to pass, he held his head quietly, cursing under his breath. After it had cleared, he looked over at Vincent, who had picked up his pencil and was sketching what seemed to be automatically. The form came out quickly, a familiar thin, long-haired figure, bleeding and curled up on the ground.
"Don't worry about that #$^#, Vin..." Cid whispered, knowing what Vincent was trying to convey through his drawings what he couldn't convey through his facial expressions. "He's a #$^#in' #$^#@#$ with a #$^#in' stick up his #^#%in' #^# a #$^#in' mile long."
Vincent didn't respond, only writing in thin, spindly script on the edge of the paper nearest Cid. "I'll be okay. Can't risk talking, might break."
Cid nodded quietly after reading the note and rested his head on his hands, his headache still throbbing in the back of his skull. "#^#@in' hangover...what the #^@#..."
Fortunately the rest of the class passed without incident, although they continued to get stares from the rest of the class. Hojo apparently was done humiliating the two of them and didn't call on them for the rest of the class. They left relieved and tired, thankful that the rest of the class had been uneventful.
"What a #^#%in' piece of #$^#-#$#^ that class is." Cid grumbled as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Vincent walked alongside of him, keeping his eyes to the ground. He smiled slightly.
"That's a new obscenity, I must admit..."
Cid smiled back. "Oh, you haven't really seen me go yet, I make up #$^$in' strings of #^#$ that don't even make sense. It's #$#^in' great."
"We should go get something to eat..." Vincent turned his head slightly towards the stairwell. "You know...so your headache'll stop."
"Right." Cid rubbed the back of his head slightly. "$^#@in' headache."
They headed down the stairs quietly, noting again the constant stares they were getting.
"I hate being stared at..." Vincent mentioned as they were walking out in the hot day towards the dining hall. The sun was shining brightly and fiercely on the campus. "Did I ever mention that...? All my life, I've hated it..."
"Don't worry, Vin. They're #$^#in' morons, don't look at 'em." Cid shrugged, trying not to let the staring bother him as well. Despite his best efforts, it was getting to him, but he didn't want to mention it. "%&#^, there are other people who look a #%^#load weirder then we do."
"I don't think it's how we look that's getting attention..." Vincent whispered softly. Cid tried to continue with his point, even though he knew Vincent was right.
"See? Look over there, there's someone who looks a #$^#load weirder then us."
The man was sitting on a bench, his elbows resting on his knees and his head on his hands, staring forward. He had what appeared to be black cat ears coming from his short black hair and twitching near him was a long black tail, coming from underneath a red and black t-shirt, flicking lazily in the heat. His elbows rested on his black pants, his hands hanging. He had a small thin goatee and a sad look in his eyes as he stared forward listlessly.
Vincent sighed. "There are other people who have tails here, Cid. For example, there was that one blonde person I saw-"
"Shhh." Cid walked towards the man on the bench, gesturing for Vincent to follow. Vincent shrugged and followed him, not sure of what he was doing.
"Hey!" Cid sat down next to him, noting the nervous reaction he got from the cat-like man. "How's it goin'?"
"Um...fine, I guess..." His reply was hesitant and unsure. Vincent sat down as well, trying to think of a way to calm him down.
"I'm Vincent."
"I'm Cid Highwind!" Cid held a hand to his chest and smiled. He turned towards the other man. "Who're you?"
"I'm Reeve..."
"Great!" Cid smiled again and leaned his head back, apparently enjoying the sunlight. Vincent sighed.
"I'm sorry about this, he wanted to talk to you." Vincent shrugged. "I'm sorry if we're interrupting anything..."
"No, it's alright..." Reeve twitched one of his ears. "I just didn't expect anyone to sit next to me, that's all."
"Why not?" Cid asked before Vincent had a chance to respond. Reeve looked at his hands and held one of them up. He flexed his fingers and small claws appeared from his fingertips.
"...It's complicated..."
"Ah #$^$, how complicated can it be?" Cid didn't appear to be paying a great deal of attention. Vincent sighed again. "Just cause you look like a #$^#in' cat, it's no big deal."
"I'm Reeve..." He put his hand down, seeming to ignore what Cid said. He returned his stare downwards. "And I guess...you could also call me Cait Sith."
"Cait Sith?" Vincent held up a hand to silence Cid, who seemed to want to say something. "What do you mean?"
Reeve closed his eyes for a moment. "Right now I'm Reeve...but sometimes...if something bad happens or I can't deal with something...Cait Sith shows up instead..." He shook his head sharply and buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense...I do this all the time..." He thumped his hand into his head for a few seconds. "Why do I always do this, I always do this..."
Cid grabbed Reeve's hand quickly. "Woah woah woah, calm down!"
Reeve sighed deeply. When he spoke, his voice had changed and become more casual. "Sorry, didn't mean to freak out on you guys there, it was an accident. I do that sometimes, it's no biggie."
Cid and Vincent exchanged glances.
Vincent opened his mouth to say something, but Cid cut him off. "Want to come eat with us, Cait?"
Reeve looked up at Cid in surprise, his large eyes blinking. He turned to Vincent, finding him nodding as well. Reeve turned to look at his hands again and nodded slowly. "Sure..."
"Great!" Cid stood, putting his hands back in his pockets. "Don't worry, Cait, we'll be your friends."
"If you want us to be..." Vincent added, not sure of whether or not Cid was scaring Reeve away. Reeve's white-tipped tail was flicking back and forth rapidly.
"Sure, sure!" He had a slight accent now that hadn't been present before. "You guys are great, thanks a lot! Reeve has some problems talking with people, he ain't exactly all there, if you know what I mean." He pointed to his head. "That's why he'll trip out and hit himself or start talking weird. But don't worry, he'll get out of it eventually."
Vincent blinked slightly, but Cid seemed to take this completely in stride. He began walking, smiling happily as he kept his hands in his pockets.
"Nothin' like warm days." Cid turned to Vincent. "Almost makes me forget my #$^#in' headache..."
Vincent nodded, not sure of what to say. Reeve walked on Vincent's other side, his tail sweeping along behind him as he smiled brightly. Vincent leaned towards Cid, whispering quietly.
"I think you did Reeve a favor by talking to him..."
"#$#^, you did him a favor by talkin' to him too, don't give me all the credit here." Cid smirked. "Besides, we all need friends, right? #$^#, I know I do."
Vincent just stared at Cid in surprise and heard Reeve humming happily near him. He shrugged and continued walking.
When they entered the dining hall, everyone seemed to stop for a moment to stare at them. Vincent began to wonder if he'd ever get used to this. Cid seemed to not care as he handed over his ID card, which he had apparently gotten out of his old clothes beforehand. Which reminded Vincent...
"Highwind, where'd you get that knife...?"
Cid turned to him. "Hmm? Oh that..."
Vincent handed over his own ID, noting the awkward look on Cid's face. "I just do, y'know, in case #$^# happens or somethin'...makes me feel better to have it, really..."
Cid then turned and began walking towards the main area, seemingly oblivious to the stares of everyone around him. "Now, I wonder what they got today."
Reeve paused near Vincent, looking at him with an almost catlike grin on his face. "He's real energetic, you know that? Real sparker."
Vincent didn't quite get the metaphor that he used, but he smiled slightly. "Yes, you're right."
Reeve walked forward, his tail lifted and held high for once. He looked back at Vincent with the same catlike grin. "Oh, and I'm Cait Sith. Not Reeve. You'll know when he's around."
Vincent nodded again, scratching his head softly as he walked forward. He could feel the strain on the wounds on his arm and sighed deeply. He really didn't want to go back to that class in two days, but what could he do...?
He thought back to the previous night. Cid had said he was scared and frightened...is that why he seemed to seek out other people who felt the same way...?
Vincent shrugged and picked up a tray, deciding that he should think about it later, when he knew more about Cid and Reeve, and most likely himself.

~~~
It took him a while to find where Cid and Reeve had chosen to sit. Vincent had never been good at picking faces out of a crowd, and he felt awkward without Cid's presence near him. He had forgotten how strange it felt to not have the shorter young man's comforting aura of strength. He finally located them near a corner, where they waved to him cheerfully. Vincent would have waved back, but his hands were full.
As he walked there, the stares seemed to increase and seemed to have a touch of hostility instead of the questioning blankness they had before. Vincent didn't like this development.
He slid into his seat and both Cid and Reeve smiled at him.
"Took you long enough, Vin!" Cid had picked up some rather high-energy food, which didn't really surprise Vincent at all. All of the food that Reeve had chosen seemed to have some kind of element of seafood in it. Vincent, however, had stuck with the vegetarian selection.
Reeve leaned forward, whispering in a not-very-confidential way. "Hey, I don't know if y'guys know this or not, but everybody here is staring at you."
Cid stared at Reeve levelly and flicked his nose. "Jesus, Reeve, what the #$^# gave you that idea?"
Reeve backed away, his ears lowered, and rubbed his nose in annoyance. "I'm not Reeve, I'm Cait Sith, I told you that already."
Vincent nodded quietly and sipped his drink. "Yes, we are aware of that though, Cait Sith..." He shook his head quietly. "I believe rumors are spreading that are untrue. Today's class couldn't have helped."
"Oh wait..." Reeve looked thoughtful for a moment, his ears pricking up. "You mean, you're those two guys everyone's talkin' about?"
Cid and Vincent both stared at Reeve for a second. They had different reactions.
"Talkin' about?"
"Everyone?"
Reeve took a drink from his glass and then blinked at them in surprise. "Yeah, jeez, I would've thought you would know by now!"
"I may have guessed..." Vincent rested his head on his flesh hand. "But what are they saying?"
Reeve looked back and forth for a moment and held his hands up, his ears lowered again. "Don't kill me for this, I'm just a messenger, but they think you guys are majorly boffin' eachother."
Vincent stared in incomprehension while Cid grabbed a fork almost compulsively. Cid's voice was very strained.
"They what?"
"Hey hey hey hey." Reeve seemed to lower himself in his seat, holding his hands up again. "I said don't kill the messenger, okay? There's all this stuff going on about how you came out of his room, and how there were weird noises, and how you're wearing his clothes, and everythin'! They say it's really obvious you guys are sexin' it up all over."
Cid's eye twitched. Vincent buried his hands in his hair. "I left the TV on, no wonder there were strange noises..."
"WHAT THE #$^#-" Cid slammed the fork into the table and stood up, knocking the chair back sharply. Reeve curled up in his chair, the fur on his tail rising in alarm.
"Agh! Don't kill the messenger, don't kill the messenger!"
"Highwind, please!" Vincent reached out and took hold of Cid's arm, pulling him back down. "We don't need to attract any more attention then we already have!"
Cid began to string curse words together, muttering under his breath with his arms crossed as he went and retrieved his chair, pulling it back up and sitting down angrily. Reeve finally uncurled, seeing the danger was over, and looked at both of them in surprise.
"So you mean it isn't true an' all?"
Cid glared at him while Vincent was the one who responded. "No, it isn't. I'll explain what happened later, this isn't exactly the place."
Cid looked around and noticed that almost everyone was staring at them again, more actively then before. Reeve raised one eyebrow.
"Right...sorry 'bout bringin' that up, I probably should've kept my mouth shut."
"It's alright." Vincent noted with concern that Cid was staring at the table in silence, something that seemed very uncommon for him. He leaned on his elbows and sighed. "I guess my assumption was right...I didn't think it was that far though, I only thought that they perhaps thought there was an emotional relationship, not a physical one..."
Vincent was masking his words more then he intended, but it was a natural reaction of his when he got upset. Reeve toyed with a fishstick on his plate. "Either way, you guys are targets, MAJOR targets. You should be careful." He pointed at both of them with the fishstick. "I don't want you guys to get hurt, you're the only people who talk to me."
Vincent nodded and touched Cid's arm. "Are you alright...?"
Cid took a deep breath, then exhaled, the tension that Vincent could feel in his arm lessening. It took him a while until he could speak. "Yeah, I'm #$^#in' fine, just didn't think they thought we were #$^#in', that's all...stupid #$^$s..."
Vincent looked down at his plate, his appetite suddenly gone. "I do agree though...I think we should be careful..."

~~~

They bid farewell to Reeve outside of Vincent's dorm. Although Cait Sith wanted to stay with them, Reeve wanted some time to himself, and so they said their goodbyes. They promised to meet up again at some time, however, and exchanged room numbers. They also agreed that they shouldn't walk alone, any of them, and to be careful. It hadn't taken Vincent and Cid long to become friends with Reeve, who was really a nice guy, if a bit confused at times. His physical abnormalities weren't so much as a disfigurement then a characteristic of Cait Sith, and therefore became perfectly normal to them both. They did understand, however, how Reeve could have no friends, considering that even if someone got beyond his appearance, they had to get past the Reeve/Cait Sith complex, and that took effort. However, outcasts as they were, Cid and Vincent didn't give up easily.
It was assumed that they'd be heading to Vincent's room, considering that it was the most hospitable place for the two to stay, considering how touchy Reno could be. As they headed up the stairs, a high-pitched laugh seemed to come from their floor. Heading for Vincent's room, they noted a woman with blonde hair and a extremely lowcut red dress, laughing in an extremely high-pitched tone. The minute she saw them, her eyes hardened with a sadistic glint.
"Well well well, what have we here?" Her voice arced at strange points. Vincent whispered under his breath at Cid, who was tensing up angrily.
"Don't say anything, ignore her..."
"It's the little homo and his #$^#@. Going back to his room to go #$@%?"
"YOU #$^#IN'-" Cid lunged for her, only stopped by Vincent grabbing his arm before he could reach her. She pressed against the wall, laughing hysterically as Cid continued cursing randomely, still trying to reach her as Vincent held him back.
"Highwind, calm down! Please! We can't give her what she wants!"
This made her laugh louder. Cid eventually made an angry frustrated noise and began walking quickly down the hall, his fists clenched in fury. Vincent followed, his own anger masked perfectly.
"#$^#in' #$^#@. I'll get you!" Cid turned and pointed at her. "I'll #$^#in' beat the #$^# out of you, don't think I won't!"
"I don't think so, shorty. You aren't man enough to even TOUCH me."
Cid was trembling, but managed to control his rage enough to not go lunging after her again. "I bet every #$^#in' guy HERE has #$^#in' touched you, you #$^#in' slut-whore! Go #$^# a bedpost!"
The woman turned on him angrily, her face contorted in fury. "No one calls Scarlet a slut!"
"You're a #$%^in' slut-WHORE, didn't you #$^@in' hear me!?" Cid shouted at her. Vincent touched his shoulder, his door open.
"C'mon Highwind, just forget her..."
"I won't forget this!" Scarlet shouted after Cid as he followed Vincent.
"Shut the #$^# up, slut-whore!"
Cid slammed the door to the room and instantly curled into the corner of the bed, pressing his head against the wall in frustration.
Vincent rubbed his arm awkwardly, trying to think of something to say. "Look, I wouldn't listen to her. Her opinion isn't worth considering..."
"$^#% her, Vin. #$^# 'em all..." Cid slid onto his side, pressing his hands into his head. "#$^# the doctors an' #$^# the dizzy spells an' #$^# that #$^#er Hojo an' #$^# college an' #$^# life in #$^#in' general...#$#$ em' all..."
Vincent sat on the edge of the bed, sighing. "I have a feeling this isn't going to be the end of this...and to think..." He stared at his hands. "This is only our second day..."
"And already we got the entire #$^#in' school against us. We must have a #$^#in' gift." Cid curled onto his side and tried to hide underneath the blankets, his voice angry and tight. "Oh, I forgot to mention, #^#^ this piece of #$^#in' #$^# hangover, god#$^# it..."
Vincent fell back himself, letting his arms fall outwards. He sighed as well. "Well, at least it can't get any worse..."
There was a pounding on the door and deep voice shouted through it. "Did one of you #$^#ers in there call Scarlet a slut-whore!? You get out here right now-"
Vincent reached over and picked up the remote, turning the TV on and turning up the volume until it drowned out the shouting and the pounding. He slid back towards the wall, sighing as he settled into his old position. Cid finally got out from underneath the blankets and sat next to him like before, sighing deeply.
"#$^#, Vin, this is just beginnin. We're goin' to get dragged through #$^#in' #^$# before this is all over."
"And it's all circumstance..." Vincent sighed and changed the channel. "We're victims of circumstance..."
"#$^# Vin, everyone is. We're not #$^#in' victims, we're #$^#in' TARGETS. #$^#in' targets of circumstance..." Cid took the remote from Vincent and began flipping channels rapidly. "#$@^ it, #$^# it all, I #$^#in' hate this..."
"We'll get through this somehow..." Vincent tried to make himself believe it, but somewhere he simply couldn't. "They can't keep this up forever..."
"#$^# 'em all." Cid responded, continuing to flip through channels rapidly. "#$^# the #$^#ers to #$^#in' #$^#, the pieces of #$^#."
Vincent sighed and waited for Cid to stop on one channel. "I'm afraid I'm inclined to agree with you..."
Cid paused for a moment, then began clicking through channels again. "#$^#."
The two sat and watched TV together for what must have been an hour, making half-hearted jabs at the actors. Both of them were concerned over what was happening and what could happen and this made their talk heavier and quieter then it had ever been before.
Vincent finally sighed and put down the remote, looking down. "Strife will probably be back soon..."
"Right..." Cid slid off the bed, heading for the phone. He fished the slip of paper out of his pocket and dialed quickly. "Yo, Reeve?...Cait, whatever. Mind comin' on over? Considerin' the atmosphere I don't think it's the greatest #$^#in' idea in the world for me to be walkin' around alone."
Vincent was searching around his desk, not sure of what to do. He didn't want Cid to be hurt because of him, he never wanted that...he wanted some way that he could help protect him, even if it wasn't truly physical. Unfortunately, his posessions didn't leave much to the imagination. He looked towards Cid, who apparently was having a rather active conversation with Reeve on the phone. His eyes glanced down at the pad of paper on the floor, and he picked it up, leaning back against the wall to begin to sketch.
"C'mon, it ain't that bad, sure, Hojo's a #$^#$, but you can't let him do that to you!...Well, #$#^...shut up, that won't happen again! Cause I said so, that's why! Oooo, you're askin' to get that tail of yours pulled! Yeah, wouldn't like that, would you? What?! You leave my goggles out of this, you little..."
Vincent could tell from his tone that the two were teasing eachother gently and without seriousness. He smiled quietly as he tried to draw himself on the paper, demonic wings flaring to protect a smaller, feather winged person underneath him. He wasn't sure what other way he could give protection, knowing that he couldn't be with Cid all the time, but he felt as though this was at least making some kind of visible effort.
"What class you got tomorrow, catface?...Well of COURSE you don't like that name, that's why I thought of it! Pff, you're too easy to #$^% off, man. So what class you got?" Cid pulled the paper out of his pocket, looking at it as he supported the phone on one shoulder. "Great, me too! We can meet up there and ignore everythin' together! ...Pff, you sound as if you WANT to pass college, catface...well of COURSE that's not the purpose of college, man! It's to get drunk and get #$^@ed, everyone knows that."
Vincent began snickering to himself, finding the irony too much for him. Cid pointed at him with the paper. "Shut up, I don't need any comments from YOU."
Vincent rolled his eyes and darkened his lines, trying to shade evenly. His shading always seemed to be blocky and sharp and it bothered him, but here he seemed to be making progress. "And to think, that's what started this entire mess."
"Hey catface, meet me here in fifteen minutes, okay?" Cid hung up without waiting for a response, smiling broadly. "#$^#, I don't think I've ever met a guy in my life that's easier to tweak with then him."
"I'll make a note of that." Vincent smiled softly and continued to work. It wasn't long before Cid was hovering around him, blinking curiously.
"What are you drawing?"
"Oh..." Vincent put his pencil down and handed the paper to Cid. "A gift, I guess. I suppose you could say it's my way of offering my protection."
If Vincent expected an awkward pause he didn't get one. Cid smiled brightly at him and folded the paper twice, putting it in one of his many pockets. "Thanks, Vin! Don't worry, I think everything will blow over soon anyway. Those #$^#ers got to get tired of it sometime."
Cid slid off the bed again, rubbing the back of his head. "#$^@, wish I thought to bring my cigs tho'. #^#%. In fact, mother#$^#."
"You'll get them soon, Highwind, don't worry." Vincent's arm twitched slightly, and he remembered about earlier that day. Curious, he tried to unwrap the fabric with his claw, but only ended up shredding it instead. Sighing, he pulled the fabric away, staring at the five glaring red marks left on the inside of his arm.
Again, Cid had come to look. "Really did a #$^#in' number, Vin, I'm not kiddin'."
Vincent sighed. "I didn't intend to...it's a nervous reaction of mine...to clench this..." Vincent couldn't even continue with what he intended. He moved around it. "Whenever I get upset..."
The gold glinted softly in the light. Cid stared at him seriously for a moment and took the claw authoratively. "Vin, come on. It's not that bad. You're way too #$#^in' hard on yourself."
Vincent didn't physically respond, his voice level. "I'm worried, Highwind. What if one of us gets hurt...? I mean...with all the rumors going around..."
"#$^# the rumors, man!" Cid leaned back on his heels and stood, his feet sinking into the bed. He wavered for a second, then found his balance, putting a hand to his chest. "I'm Cid #$^#in' Highwind, I'll beat the #$^# out of anyone that tries to touch you! An' me, for that matter. An' good ol' catface."
Vincent shook his head and smiled in spite of himself. "Are you going to call him that permanently now?"
Cid sat down quickly, bouncing a few times before responding. "Hey, I could be callin' you gothboy."
Vincent raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. "Gothboy?"
Cid smiled and leaned against the wall for a second. "Or I could think of somethin' even worse. You're lucky you got off with Vin."
"You always make up nicknames for people...?" Vincent leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his knees, more because he wanted something to do with his arms then anything else. Cid looked at him levelly and managed to return the same kind of smile that Vincent had before.
"You always use their lastnames? I bet it's drivin' you #$^#in' nuts you can't figure out what Catface's last name is."
Vincent looked vaguely annoyed while Cid smiled knowingly. "Ah, see? I was right!" Cid again shifted off the bed. "See, I'm always right."
Vincent smiled again, leaning back to watch Cid walk around the room, poking at things. "You're always right, are you?"
"#$^# yeah." Cid poked something that spun and smiled. "Doubt me?"
There were some timid knocks on the door. Cid opened it before Vincent even thought of getting up, pulling Reeve inside and closing the door quickly behind him.
"How was your trip?" Vincent inquired from the bed. Reeve was brushing himself off from his rough pull into the room, his clothes pretty much the same as before, his shirt now black in the front and red in the back and the slacks replaced with black cargos. His ears flicked back and forth, following his inquisitive eyes.
"Got the royal starin' treatment, as usual." Reeve noted that there was a large blank space on Cloud's shelf where the books were supposed to be and instantly made his way up there, despite the fact he had to climb the desk to do so. He layed down on the shelf and rested his head on his hands, smiling in that catlike way of his that seemed so natural. "Think people've never seen a cat before..."
"Maybe it's 'cause you're only a #$^#in' half-@#$ed cat, catface." Cid seemed to be filled with a bizarre kind of energy, jumping back onto the bed with such force that Vincent was knocked out of his curled position. "What the #$^# you doin' up there anyway?"
"I'm plottin' to take over the world, genius, what do you think?" The catlike smile remained on Reeve's face. Vincent watched him in amazement. Earlier today, when talking to him, even when he was Cait Sith, this kind of ease hadn't been present. Cait Sith must have really grown to trust them in the span of time that had passed since the parted. He wondered if Reeve would follow suit.
"#$^#, if you do, can I make sure a few people die in some real nasty ways?" Cid smiled. "I know a few that really #$^#in' deserve it."
Reeve let one of his thin arms fall over the edge of the shelf, drifting lazily across the top of the Cloud's monitor. "So do I, really. I think everyone does. But anyway, why'd you invite me here anyway, you spaz?"
"Don't call me a spaz, catface." Cid pointed at Reeve mock-threateningly, who lowered his ears.
"Spaz."
"Catface."
"Spaaaaz."
"Caaaatfacceeeee."
"Yes, the maturity in this room is astounding." Vincent remarked quietly, causing the two to turn their eyes to him.
"You're too serious, Vin, honestly." Cid shrugged. Reeve flicked his tail back and forth lazily along the same trajectory his hand had been following, a smile crossing his face. The same smile lit up Cid's face a few seconds later. "You should lighten up."
"It's not my fault you-" Vincent was cut off as Cid lept at him and began tickling him furiously. "AGH!"
Reeve began to laugh from the top shelf as Vincent tried in vain to push Cid away while laughing too hard to talk.
"See? You look better already!" Cid was laughing as well as Vincent squirmed, trying to get away from him. Reeve sat up slightly, propping up his elbows and letting his head rest in his hands.
"Stop! Agh!"
The sound of clicking from the door cause all sound in the room to stop. Cid backed away quickly from Vincent and in the process managed to trip over his chair. He gave a short cry of surprise before falling on his back heavily. Vincent pulled himself up, trying to catch his breath. Reeve remained completely silent, his tail lifted back up to the level of the rest of his body.
Cloud walked in, looking tired and worn. He threw his bag near Cid, almost striking him, as he slammed the door. He finally seemed to notice Cid after a moment's pause.
Cid struggled to right himself, managing to somehow knock the chair over again in the process. He put it back up and brushed himself off, holding his head slightly. The dizziness there must have been terrible.
"Again, would you please warn me when you have people over?" Cloud moved over to his bed, sitting down with a thump.
Reeve's tail wandered back down near the monitor as he spoke. "Sorry, we don't want to bothering you..."
Cloud jumped as he realized that Reeve was there, then again looked at Vincent, just in time to miss Reeve repeatedly thumping his head into the shelf mumbling to himself.
"Stupid stupid stupid..."
Cid stood and pulled on Reeve's tail gently.
"Woah woah woah, stop it, come on! It's no big deal, come on."
Reeve slowly turned to look at him, his forehead a slightly darker color then the rest of his face, his expression changing for a few moments, then returning to the ease it had before. "Sorry about that, don't know what came over me..."
Vincent sighed deeply as Reeve made his way down from the shelf with a quiet grace. "I'm sorry, but I think you should probably go..."
"No problem, Vin, no problem." Cid smiled lightheartedly, pushing Reeve along in front of him. "We'll be back later, alright? Call us if you need us."
Vincent nodded as the two left, bantering back and forth seemingly carelessly. Vincent again felt a twinge of worry for them both. He hoped they'd be alright.
Cloud continued to stare at him for a few moments, as if waiting for him to explain something, then shook his head, rolling onto his side on his bed. "I'm going to sleep...turn the lights off."
Vincent obediantly flicked the switch and sat in darkness, unable to rest.

~~~

Cid and Reeve meandered down the hall, glancing back at the room where Vincent had been left alone.
"Man, what a #$^#$. I still got a #$^#in' headache and now Vin's roomie is all like 'this be my room now, #$^@%, get out!' and stuff." Cid put a fake accent into his speech, eliciting some muffled snickering from Reeve. "I ain't down with that."
"Stop that." Reeve's tail moved back and forth lazily as they headed down the stairs. "You're just being silly now."
"Pff, I was born to be #$^#in' silly, catface."
"Whatever, spazboy."
Cid playfully lept for Reeve, but he dodged out of the way with the feline grace that came so naturally to him. Cid laughed and crossed his arms. "$#^#in' catface. You're too #$^#in' fast."
"Comes with the territory." Reeve stuck his tongue out at him and continued walking down the hallway, Cid following along behind. "Never been hit by somethin' thrown at me in my life."
"Yeah yeah." Cid looked slightly awkward for a moment. "Hey, can I stay at your place for a while? My roomies a #$^#in' #$#%."
Reeve paused for a moment then smiled. "Sure I guess. But you got to go back sometime tonight."
"Hey hey, I said a little while!" Cid held up his hands nonthreateningly as they walked towards Reeve's dorm, which was in-between his and Vincent's. "Not like I'm #^$@in' askin' you to marry me or somethin'."
"Good, 'cause I'd divorce you in a second." Reeve's tail was flicking back and forth playfully as he smirked back at Cid, who caught up and put his arms behind his head.
"Pff, divorce me an' I'll take you for everythin' you got, @#%@%."
"I'll see you in court then! I want the dog, and the cat, and the car..."
"Pff, you already HAVE the cat, catface."
"Great, you just ruined the entire thing! Thanks a lot."
"No wonder I want a divorce."
"No, I wanted the divorce."
"Lies! All lies!" Cid kicked open the door to Reeve's dorm roughly and walked in, his arms outstretched. "You know what, catface? I just can't handle the truth, that's what. Just can't. I got a restrainin' order on it too."
Reeve rolled his eyes. "You never quit, do you? Come on, my room's over here."
Cid waited impatiently while Reeve struggled to remember where he had put his room key. He noticed as he waited the stares he was getting from everyone passing by with increasing annoyance. The fact that Reeve was talking to himself and pulling debris out of his pockets wasn't helping at all.
"God#$^# it, catface, speed it up already."
"Ah! Here we go." Reeve smiled and unlocked the door. "I wonder if Moog's in..."
"He your roomie?" Cid walked in. Reeve's side of the room was decorated with pictures of cats and various casinos, along with what seemed to be architectural plans. The other side of the room seemed somewhat barren in comparison, but the same kind of fascination with casinos seemed to be present. Cid, having no real respect for anyone's sense of personal property, went and sat on Reeve's bed, propping his feet up.
Reeve cocked his head slightly, his ears changing positions slightly with each motion. "Yeah, we've been friends for what feels like forever, so we signed up to be roommates. I feel bad for you suckers who just got the random assignments."
"Yeah, I bet you're #^#^in' sorry." Cid found a ball of yarn and began throwing it idly at the ceiling. "What's he like?"
"Ah, the quiet type. I don't think he'll appeal t'you much, but me and him go waaay back." Reeve was watching the yarnball with great interest. "Either way, you can stay here if you want for a while, but y'got to go back sometime."
"Don't worry about it." Cid let the yarn ball fall back into his hands, looking at it for a moment before throwing it upwards again. "I'll be fine."
"I hope so." Reeve leaned back and sighed. "I really hope so."
Cid's night was spent rather uneventfully in Reeve's room. They mainly just pretended to bicker back and forth until his roommate came back. He was a huge, completely white, overweight kid that seemed to dwarf everything in the room. He talked slowly, but he wasn't stupid. Cid was surprised for a moment, but at the happiness in Reeve's face at seeing his friend, he shrugged and decided to go along with it.
Cid eventually had to bid Reeve and Moogle (as he found out he was called) farewell and, tired of people having to go out of their way for him, he decided to walk back alone. It was about time he started doing things for himself again.
The staring was beginning to bother him, although he liked to pretend it didn't. His thoughts wandered to the paper in his pocket. Vincent had drawn himself with demon wings, and he had angel ones...
Cid sighed and rubbed his head, his headache still lingering somewhere in the back. He wondered why Vincent had made him the angel...was it because that he thought that he was a demon himself, or because he thought that highly of Cid? He wasn't sure. He did feel better with the paper with him however.
He left the dorm and began walking back to his own, sighing. He didn't want to have to deal with Reno right now. Considering the rumors going around, it would just give him more ammunition to use against him, and Cid really didn't want to listen to his cruel jabs while he tried to sleep. Especially since his head hurt. He shouldn't have drank so much...
He paused on the sidewalk, a slight breeze blowing by in the night air. He looked at the sky, finding the moon to be nearing full. Where had the time gone? It felt like it had just been lunch...
Time flies when you're having fun. He smiled to himself. When he was with his friends, he really did feel like time went so much quicker. It had always been a problem for him, the passage of time. He always felt like it was too slow, and that the world was moving at a snails pace compared to his own. He wondered if anyone else felt that way.
The sound of a footstep nearby brought him out of his daydream and he looked around, wondering what new person would be staring at him this time.
This person was standing in front of him, arms crossed. Their hair was spiked up in an extremely odd way, dyed a sapphire blue color. In fact, he was dressed entirely in the same hue, his wrists adorned with other sharp looking blue shards. And he was well out of Cid's league in strength. Cid backed away slightly, dread completely filling his body. Knowing his own #$^#in' bad luck, this wasn't going to be pretty...
More footsteps around him. He turned to his right to find another one, almost the same stature as the one in front of him, this one however dressed in black. Turning in a slow circle, he found a red one behind him, and the most peculiar of all, one that seemed completely white.
"Who the #$^# are you?" Cid couldn't stand the silence and tried to sound confident. He really, really could use a cigarette now. The four stared at him with unconcealed hatred and disgust.
"We don't take kindly to your type here." The blue one in front of him gestured slightly, and the black one moved towards him. "We're here to teach you a lesson."
"Is that #^#@in' so?" Cid struggled to keep the confidence in his voice. In truth, being surrounded by four people who were, not only physically superior, but actively wished him harm, was frightening him more then he wanted to admit. He tried to lock away his fear, struggling to be able to ignore it.
Cid waited for the black one to approach him before dropping suddenly, kicking out and knocking him flat on his back. He crossed his arms again and smirked confidently, hoping that would be enough to show that he wasn't defenseless and make them back off. "Well, what #$^%in' lesson was that?"
The blue one simply glared at him for a moment before turning away. "Diamond, Ruby, bring him over here, out of sight."
"The $%^# you will!" Cid turned on the white one, not sure which one he should be watching out for. "Get the #$^# away from me!"
Diamond wasn't the one he should have watched out for. In a moment his legs were taken out from underneath him and he fell, Ruby having knocked him down from below. He hit the sidewalk harder then he would have liked, and he winced. His entire field of vision went completely black, accompanied by the normal horrible pain in his head. Figures he'd have to have a spell NOW, wouldn't it?
That didn't stop him from struggling as they grabbed his arms, dragging him off to some darker area away from the sidewalk. He tried to speak, but he felt as if his words were garbled in his current state. He'd have to wait for the dizziness to wear off first...he couldn't do anything in this condition. The pain was making things blurry.
"Ultima, drop him here."
Cid again changed altitudes and angles, which didn't help the spell in any way whatsoever. He couldn't help but put a hand to his head, trying to stop the world from moving. The pain increased steadily, and the blackness in front of his eyes began to throb and shift, changing colors so that he could occasionally see some reality, but only for a few moments before it disappeared.
"Is that all it takes to take you down? This shouldn't take to long then."
"Sapphire, what do we do?"
"What do you think?" The blackness faded enough so that he could see the spikes off of one of their bracelets and their clenched fist in front of his face. "Like I said before, teach him a lesson."
He could hear them moving around them as his vision blacked out, entirely again, bringing with it another wave of disorienting pain. The fear he had tried to keep locked away before had now completely taken over him, and he could feel his heart quicken. Already knowing what was going to happen, and helpless to stop it, Cid groaned underneath his breath. "I am SO #$^#ed."

~~~

Vincent was reading by a small nightlight near his bed when the hesitant tapping came to his door. He looked up, confused, placing his paper bookmark in his book and moved forward. It was rather late for visitors...
Along with the tapping came a slight dripping noise and the sound of someone shifting their weight unevenly. Shrugging, he went to the door and opened it.
Cid was leaning heavily against the doorjam, almost unable to support himself. His knuckles were raw and bleeding, along with a cut across one eye and another near his other eyebrow, which was hard to see due to the huge black eye that accompanied it. His hair was dirty and had dark red marks in it, and the clothing he had borrowed from Vincent was now completely in tatters, revealing more bruises and bloody cuts. He was trying to keep the weight off his leg, his feet curling enough to show that they were as well cut and raw on the bottom.
"Oh my god!"
Cid's voice was soft and hesitant and frightened, completely different then anything Vincent had ever heard before. "C-can I stay with...with you tonight, Vin...?"
Vincent turned quickly to check if Cloud had awoken and pulled Cid into the room, closing the door behind him. Cid leaned on him heavily, almost unable to support his own weight. Vincent kept his voice to a whisper, making glances at Cloud to see if he was stirring. Fortunately, Cloud was sleeping soundly.
Vincent helped lift Cid to the bed, where he slumped as soon as Vincent removed his supportive hands. Vincent grabbed a nearby cloth and began dabbing at the bleeding cut near Cid's eyebrow, his voice panicked in a whisper. "Oh my god, Highwind, what happened? Tell me what happened!"
"Ow...ow, Vin, that hurts..." Cid tried ineffectively to bat away Vincent's hand but was too weak to do anything about it. Vincent continued to try and clean his face. "Stop..."
"Tell me what happened." Vincent felt near tears. This was his fault, this had to be his fault, if only he had been with him, if only he had protected him, if only he hadn't left him alone, what had he been thinking...
"#$^#in'...jumped by #$%^in' too many...too many for me...$&^$er's..." Cid winced again as Vincent tried to clean some of the dirt of his face, trying to pull away. "%$^#..."
"Oh Highwind, this is terrible, I knew something like this would happen...this is awful..."
"I'll be okay, Vin...I'll be alright..." Cid smiled lopsidedly. "I made it here, so everythin'll be okay...you can help me..."
Vincent felt tears falling from his eyes involuntarily at his words and hugged the beaten young man to him tightly, trying to keep his voice quiet. "Highwind, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault, this is all my fault..."
"#$^$ Vin, could you angst later...I'm in a lot of pain here..."
"Right, right..." Vincent let go and sniffed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Don't worry, you'll be fine."
Cid smiled again. "That's what I said, wasn't it...?"
"What did they do to you...?" Vincent took hold of Cid's tattered sleeves gently, pulling the shirt off over his head. Cid ducked his head obediantly, his voice muffled by the fabric. Cid's chest wasn't in better condition then the rest of him that Vincent had seen, covered with thick bruises and numerous small abrasions, no doubt from being shoved into the ground, or dragged, or...
"#$^#in' beat th' #$$^ out've me...four of th'#$^#ers...#$^#in' blacked out too, m'#@#@in' luck..."
Vincent studied his grey shirt. It was now torn and bloodied, almost beyond repair. He pushed it underneath some of his other clothes in his drawer, finding another black shirt to replace it. He walked back, finding Cid rocking back and forth, holding his sides with his eyes closed. A feeling of regret and sadness both came over him in the same moment, his heart feeling deep pain at watching Cid trying to hide such anguish.
"Here..." He gently touched Cid's shoulder in an area that hadn't been wounded, causing him to break out of whatever kind of spell he had been under. He threaded Cid's thin hands through the long sleeves, pulling it over his head quietly. Cid kept his eyes mainly closed, apparently trying to deal with something mentally.
"#$^#, 'm sorry your shirt is #$^#ed..." Cid mumbled, moving one of his hands to his head. Vincent's shirt was far too large for Cid and it dwarfed his hands as he rubbed his forehead painfully, the fabric gently scraping over the open wounds. "'M sorry..."
"You don't have to be sorry at all, Highwind, please." Vincent walked back to his dresser, searching through it for something that would cause the least irritation. "This wasn't your fault, this couldn't be your fault, don't blame yourself..."
Vincent walked back carrying some black cotton pants, the bottom part of some pair of pajamas that he wasn't sure where the other part was. Cid was again rocking back and forth, but he held out his hands as Vincent came close. He must have known that Vincent wanted him to change his tattered jeans...
Vincent stood in front of him, looking down awkwardly. "This should be soft, at least, I think it's the softest thing I own..."
Cid's hands hadn't been searching for the replacement for the jeans, but for Vincent himself. He pulled him close, his dirty and spiked hair scraping against Vincent's shirt, his entire body shaking. He had been trying to be strong, trying to hide how much pain he was truly in, and for a few moments that wall he had constructed broke, and he was frightened. Anger at himself for his weakness and his desire for comfort struggled within him as his mouth simply said whatever came to mind. "#$#^ Vin, y'wouldn't #$^#in' believe the #$#^ they made me say...they said I was...they said I did...#$^#, Vin, through all of it I don't think they #^#%in' knew about the picture...I think I still got it...#$^#ers didn't find it, it saved me..."
Vincent was confused at Cid's sudden show of weakness, but he put his arms around him to reciprocate, not sure of what else to do. He felt awkward, using such physical contact when he was almost positive that was the last thing that Cid wanted, but that couldn't be right, because Cid had reached out to him first...And the picture...Vincent's picture had done nothing, what was he talking about..? "What do you mean?"
"#$^#ers...they didn't think I'd make it back, but they were wrong, #$%^in' wrong...I made it back here, so I'm safe...#$^#ers didn't think of that...#$^#ers thought they got me for good..." Cid was still shaking. "Thought they'd make me #$^#in' stay away, 'cause they said they'd get me again...#$^@ers tried to make me stay away from you but I can't...#$^@ 'em all, I jus' can't...you're th' only one that makes me feel safe...I knew you'd take care of me if I found my way here..."
"Highwind..." Vincent brushed back Cid's hair, rubbing his back with his other hand, trying to keep his voice under control. Cid trusted him so deeply, so completely...why...how...No one he had ever known had trusted him like this...what did that mean? He was touched by the depth of his trust, and confused at the same time. "I'm sorry...I wish I could have been there to help you..."
"#^#% it, Vin..." Cid let go shakily, taking the pants from Vincent as he did so. "You're here #$^$in' now and that's what counts..."

Vincent turned away, thinking about his words while Cid changed, not sure of what to make of them. Cid had made his way through the beatings convinced that Vincent would be there to help him...they had made him promise not to go see him again, amongst other things that he didn't want to ask about, and yet here he was...he could have gone to Reeve, or his own room, or even someone in authority, but he came back here...
Because he made him feel safe...
But why? Why? Vincent didn't understand...what had he done that made Cid trust him so much?
"#$^#...everyone #$^#in' hits me, #$^#ers..." He turned around, assuming Cid was done. He was staring at Vincent quietly, his wounds still bleeding. "You're the only person who wouldn't #$^%in' hit me for bein' stupid now, y'know that?"
"Highwind, that's not true..." Vincent headed for the closet, digging out the box that held the emergency supplies. He pulled out some bandages and antiseptic, heading back. He wondered what Cid meant, but tried to distract himself. "There have to be others..."
"#$^#, Vin, I put you through #$^# and here you are, takin' care of me when you should be sleepin'...#%@%..."
"Highwind, you haven't done anything wrong, to me or to deserve this." Vincent moved Cid's hair out of the way and dabbed at the wound over his eye. "You haven't done anything wrong..."
"Ow, ow!" Cid tried weakly to push Vincent away and failed. "That #^#^in' stings!"
"It's supposed to." Vincent finished quickly and put a bandage over the wound. "I don't understand why you trust me so much to help you like this..."
"Want a list, Vin?" Cid sighed slightly, as if he had already answered the question. "One, you #$^#in' read my stories an' didn't call me a #$$#in' loon. Two, you #$^#in' read my stories PERIOD. Three, you didn't call me a #$^#in' moron when I said I had ADD. Four, you listened to me when I rambled on about stupid #$^#in' #$^#. Five, you think I'm funny. Six, you let me drink. Seven, you didn't #$^#in' spaz when I got drunk. Eight, you let me..." He paused slightly. "You let me #^$#$in' sleep with you. Nine, you #$^#in' helped me in class. Ten, you #^#$in' let me sleep in class..."
"That's enough." Vincent smiled slightly, wiping away some of the dirt that had smeared on Cid's cheek. "I didn't think I'd done that much."
"And finally..." Cid smiled weakly. "You didn't #$^#in' get mad at me, ever."
"Did people always get mad at you?" Vincent put another bandage near Cid's eyebrow. He wasn't sure what posessed him to ask such a stupid question...
"#$^# yeah...I drive people #$^#in' up the #$^#in' wall...you're the only person who hasn't done that..."
"Gone up a wall?" Vincent smiled slightly again, brushing back Cid's bangs. He was surprised that Cid had answered the question so readily...He began working with Cid's scraped knuckles, cleaning and bandaging them as well.
"Ow, that #^#@in' stings like a #$^#in' #^#@%..." Cid mumbled angrily.
"It'll prevent infection, which would hurt a lot more." Vincent bandaged his other hand. He sighed as he surveyed the damage. "We have to tell someone about this, they can't get away with doing this to you..."
"#^#@, don't Vin...that'll jus' get 'em angrier at me an' they might come after you too..." Cid pulled his hands away and put them on Vincent's shoulders. "I don't $^#%in' want this t'happen t'you..."

"But we can't let them get away with this, we just can't..." Vincent ducked down and began cleaning the bottom of Cid's feet. This was difficult considering that Cid's foot twitched whenever he touched it with the antiseptic. "That wouldn't be right..."
"#$^#..." Cid was wincing at the contact. "#$^#, I came back here...so I'm technically #^#ed already...maybe we should tell someone..."
"Of course we should." Vincent wrapped up his foot in bandages, turning to his other one. "Besides, you can't exactly hide the fact that you got beaten up anyway...everyone's going to know tomorrow...we have to tell someone..."
"#$^#, everyone'll see me come out've here tomorrow too. #$%# 'em." Cid winced again as his other foot was bandaged. Vincent stood back up again, quietly dabbing at Cid's arms.
"This shouldn't be too bad, I shouldn't have to bandage these...these just look like scrapes..."
Cid began shaking again, apparently remembering what had happened. Vincent put his hands on his shoulders again. "Are you going to be okay...?"
Cid turned away from him and slid under the covers, curling up to the wall and shivering. "#$^# 'em all, Vin...I #$^#in' hate 'em all..."
His voice was shaky and hurt. Vincent sat down on the bed as well, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"For this...I hate them too."
He changed for bed and headed back, noting that Cid was still shaking when he came back. He moved underneath the covers, not sure of what to do. He didn't want to touch him, considering what he had been through, but he wasn't sure that his words would be enough to help make him feel better...
His quandary was solved when Cid turned towards him, clutching at him desperately in fright. "I'm sorry, Vin...I don't want t'#$^#in' invade your space or somethin'..."
"It's alright, Highwind..." Vincent put an arm around him quietly, brushing back his hair. "I understand. It never bothered me to begin with..."
"#$^# Vin, I can still see their #$^#in' faces laughin' at me..."
"Shh, don't think about it. You're alright now, you're safe." Vincent found that he could believe his own words more then he thought possible. "You'll be okay now."
"#^#@, I'm sorry, Vin...I'm sorry..." Cid was shaking again.
"It's okay, it's okay, shh." Vincent tried to keep his voice soothing. "Shh, it's okay."
"#$^# Vin, I can't leave you now..." Cid's voice was soft and frightened. "I #$^#in' can't, I can't be alone anymore..."
"Don't worry, Highwind..." Vincent rubbed his back softly. "I won't leave you either. I need you as much as you need me."
Vincent looked up at the ceiling for a moment as Cid's breathing slowed. "I honestly need you just as much as you need me..."

~~~

It felt like no time had passed since Vincent had fallen asleep when something woke him.
His eyes opened slowly and he looked around the room. It was completly dark, meaning that the sun hadn't risen at least...it couldn't have been that late.
A distressed noise reminded him of why he had awoken, and he looked down slightly, finding only soft blond hair brushing against his face. It was Cid...he was shivering.
"Highwind...?" Vincent whispered softly, raising his claw and touching his shoulder. Cid was clutching Vincent desperatly, pressed against his back, trying to hide somehow from something that was tormenting him. No doubt his experience that night had given him nightmares... "Highwind...wake up..."
Another small whimper came from the blonde has he continued to hold onto him, burying his face into Vincent's shoulder and shaking terribly. Vincent pushed himself up on one elbow, turning and shaking Cid's shoulder. "Wake up, Highwind...you're dreaming..."
At the movement of what he believed was protecting him Cid made a short, loud exclamation of surprise and opened his eyes in panic. Vincent put a hand over his mouth and looked over at Cloud, who fortunately had not been disturbed. "Shh!"
Cid was breathing quickly and his eyes darted back and forth wildly, apparently remembering where he was. It took a few seconds, but he eventually quieted and Vincent removed his hand.
"Are you alright? You had a nightmare..."
"$@%@..." Cid held his head, closing his eyes in what seemed to be pain. "#$@^...I thought I stopped havin' those..."
"It's alright...what did you dream about?" Vincent looked at Cid's face. "Or maybe you'd rather not talk about it..."
Cid was silent for a while, then fell back onto the pillow, closing his eyes and breathing a heavy sigh. Vincent lay back down as well, brushing some stray strands of his long black hair from his face.
"#$#&, I'm sorry 'bout this, Vin..." Cid kept his hands close to his chest, his voice soft. "#$^#, I do all this #$^#in' #@$^ to you an' you never say anythin'..."
"It's alright, Highwind." Vincent wrapped his arms around himself, not sure of where else to put them. "You don't have to be sorry for anything..."
In the silence that followed, Vincent remained staring at the ceiling, thinking. Cid remained closed off, keeping to himself, a change that Vincent decided must have come from his nightmare. Cid's even breathing made Vincent almost positive that he was asleep. He sighed himself. Without Cid's body as close to his as it had been before, his heat was disappearing quickly...
He banished the thought from his mind and turned his back to Cid, trying to keep his mind clear.
He drifted off into sleep, somewhat uneasy and cold.

~~~

Sunlight woke him up, as it had before. The unexpected warmth on his face made him squint his eyes and try to turn, only to find something blocking his progress.
Cid's head was resting on his neck, his blonde hair intermingling with his black, sleeping quietly. His arm was draped over Vincent, his body curled completely along with his. Apparently during the night he had another change of heart...
The black eye was fading, fortunately, but he still wasn't in good shape. Vincent wasn't sure if he should come with him to class, but he was worried about him...he couldn't miss early classes like this.
He sighed and moved Cid's arm off of him, sitting up and sliding his feet out from underneath the covers. Cid woke blearily, mumbling to himself almost incoherently.
Vincent left the bed to close the blinds, noting on the way that Cloud was already gone. He vaguely wondered where he went, but decided it wasn't really that important.
"Do you think you can go to class today, Highwind...?" Vincent's voice was hesitant and awkward. He didn't really know what to say at the moment...it just felt extremely awkward to him.
"#%@^...don't really got a choice..." Cid's voice came from behind him, and he turned to see Cid slid his own bandaged feet out from underneath the sheets. The bottoms of the bandages were a faint reddish tinge, and Vincent walked over quietly, kneeling. Cid looked down at him.
"That's the thin' I #$^#in' don't understand the most...why the #$^# they #$^# with my feet...I mean, #$^#iin' Christ..."
Vincent turned to the first-aid kit, but found that he had already used most of the bandages. He sighed. "I don't know, Highwind...perhaps they knew how sensitive and important feet are...I don't know."
Vincent stood and walked to where he had left his shoes. He heard the soft sound of feet hitting the carpet of the room, then a sharp hissing. He turned and found Cid sitting on the bed, his feet drawn up near him. He stared at them for a moment, muttering curses under his breath, then turned to Vincent.
"Vin...I don't think I can #$#^in' walk on these..."
Vincent finished putting on his shoes and sighed. "Are you sure?"
Cid nodded. "#$^#in' feels like #$^#in' fire..."
Vincent thought for a moment. They had to go back to Professor Hojo's class...and he didn't want them to be late...but with Cid in this condition...how were they going to make it...?
"We have to go to the nurse...she'll know what to do..." Vincent rubbed the back of his head. Cid sighed and leaned his head on his hands.
"How?"
Vincent thought for a few moments. "I think I have an idea..."

~~~

Vincent let Cid open the door, considering that his hands were occupied. He was surprisingly light, considering, which made things easier. Fortunately the nurse's office wasn't that far away, so Vincent wouldn't have to carry him far.
However, the journey there was less then easy.
The strident laugh coming from down the hallway made it painfully clear that they were seen.
"Look! Here comes the bride! HA!"
Cid crossed his arms angrily, but didn't say anything, and Vincent tried not to awknowledge her comments. They turned away from her and continued down the hallway, cruel jabs and taunts following their progress.
Vincent wondered just how many people seemed to be out at this time of day, because it seemed like everyone in the entire college had gathered in their dorm just to stare at them. Cid mumbled to himself the entire time, while Vincent tried to keep himself from blushing in embarassment.
They made it to the Nurse's office with nothing worse then a few angry stares and Scarlet's mockery, fortunately. Once inside, Vincent put Cid down on a chair and stretched, his muscles protesting angrily at being worked so hard so early.
Cid continued to mumble incoherently to himself as Vincent turned.
"Hi! What are you guys doing here?" Reeve's large eyes stared into Vincent's own and he jumped backwards in surprise. He hadn't even heard him come up.
Vincent opened his mouth to tell him why, then realized what had happened. He paused momentarily, glancing back at Cid who had his arms crossed sullenly. He looked back at Reeve, who had sobered greatly.
"Oooh. I get it. Did the Weapons getcha?"
"The what?" Vincent looked at Reeve, askingly, who didn't turn to look at him, only focusing his eyes towards him.
"The Weapons, man. Big family of guys, all in the college together. Heard 'em talkin' 'bout beatin' someone up last night for ..." Reeve gestured somewhat awkwardly. "You know, but I didn't think it was you..." He then looked thoughtful. "Although actually now that I think about it, you're the only guys that make sense..."
"Who are the Weapons?" Vincent sat down himself, holding his head. Reeve sat down on the floor, his tail whisking back and forth behind his back.
"There's a bunch of 'em, I can't even remember 'em all...there's Emerald, and Ruby, and Diamond..."
"That's them, those #$^#Ers.." Cid finally spoke up. "Four of 'em...#$#@ 'em all."
"Sucks to be you." Reeve brushed one of his hands over his ears absently. "So you're here to get the royal checkup?"
"Actually, that brings to mind another interesting question." Vincent leaned forward. "Why are YOU here, Reeve?"
The change that came over him was extraordinary as he moved his eyes to the carpet and and pawed at the back of his head. "Um...it's awkward, don't talk like about...wait..."
The pawing turned into a repetitive striking. "That's not right, not right..."
"Nevermind." Vincent leaned back, sighing. "It's okay."
It only took a moment for Reeve to turn back to his outgoing self. "Actually, you guys should go ahead of me, I got all day. You got to go to that freak's class, right?"
Vincent and Cid nodded at the same time, an almost identical look of disgust crossing their faces.
"Does anyone need our assistance?" A male called out from behind a door, and Reeve smiled at them.
"Your call. Go for it!"
"Be careful, Reeve." Vincent turned to Cid and slid his arms back underneath his knees and shoulders, lifting him back up easily and carrying him forward. "I think things are getting more dangerous then we thought."
"Don't worry about me." Reeve smiled confidentally at him. "I can take care of myself. You take care of eachother, alright?" Reeve was back in his previous seat in a flash, looking for all the world that he hadn't been talking to anyone.
"Do you have a problem?" The man asked, leading them to a small room with a table. Vincent put Cid down on top of it and stood awkwardly.
"This is Cid Highwind...I'm Vincent Valentine...um..."
Cid didn't mention his bloodied knuckles, the bruises and wounds on his arms, or the bandages over his eye. All he did was lift his foot and point at it. "My feet hurt like a #$^#in' $@^@^."
The man raised an eyebrow for a second. "...right. Well, how did this happen?"
Cid remained completely silent. Not encouraged by his response, Vincent stayed silent as well. The man sighed and shrugged, unwrapping the covering over Cid's wounds. "Alright...whatever."
"Will he be able to walk?" Vincent finally ventured to speak. Cid kept his arms crossed and remained quiet. The man stared at the wounds for a while, then shrugged, looking through a nearby cabinet until he found a bottle. He pulled a cotton swab from within a drawer, moistening it with the substance inside the bottle.
"I suppose...I wouldn't recommend it..."
When the swab touched Cid's foot he jerked back sharply. "#$^#! What the #$^# is that?!"
The man waited until Cid calmed before speaking. "It's supposed to hurt, alright? It'll sting, then the pain should fade."
Vincent put a hand on his shoulder. "Remember?"
Cid winced for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright, whatever."
Vincent removed his hand and the man resumed putting the medication on Cid's feet, not noticing how Cid's grip on the edge of the table tightened. Vincent stared at him as Cid tried his best not to show any signs of pain, just the hissing between his teeth and the grip he held on the edge of the table.
"There, that should do it."
"Thank $^#@in' god." Cid released the table, his knuckles white, and brushed a hand through his hair. The man rebandaged Cid's wounded feet and marked off something on a clipboard he was carrying.
"I wouldn't walk on those...hold on for a second." He walked out of the room and returned carrying a pair of crutches. Cid stared at them for a few seconds.
"Hold on a #$^#in' second, I'm not #$^#in' mortally injured, it's just my feet..."
The man handed them to Vincent with a resigned sigh. "Try walking on them, Cid."
It only took a few moments on the ground for him to realize how much pain was still present. "Alright, alright..."
The man seemed to regard Vincent as his protector or guardian or something, because he handed him a sheet of paper from his clipboard. "Keep him off his feet and away from strenous activity...he should be fine."
"Al...alright." Vincent nodded awkwardly and handed the crutches to Cid, who snatched them away irritably, muttering to himself. It took a few moments for him for find his balance, but Cid eventually was able to stand.
"Come back if anything serious happens..." The man walked away, apparently heading back to the waiting room for Reeve. Vincent glanced at a clock on the wall.
"We might be able to make it on time..."
"#@#%, I don't got my backpack or anythin'..."
"Neither do I, but I'm sure we can improvise..." Vincent shrugged and began walking, waiting for Cid to follow. "It shouldn't be that bad."

~~~

It took quite a few tries until Cid was able to walk at a steady pace, taking longer then both intended. When they had finally made it to class, it was almost as late as it had been when they had gotten there the first day.
"Ready, Vin?"
"I suppose..."
Vincent opened the door. The class instantly quieted at the sight of the two, Prof. Hojo turning from something he had been explaining on the overhead. He noted them with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, then finally settled on amusement.
In the awkward silence that followed, the two entered the class, Cid's crutches making painfully loud noises. Both were waiting for the comment that they were sure Hojo would make.
It didn't take long until his cold, calculating voice reached them.
"Late again, I see...rough night, Cid?"
Vincent felt his claw clutching out of his control. Cid refused to look at Hojo, only muttering angrily underneath his breath. "@#@% you."
Vincent wasn't sure if Hojo had heard him or not, but he apparently wasn't finished with them yet. "Did you sustain some kind of...lower back injury?"
There were quiet giggles from within the ranks of the class, and Vincent could see Cid shaking with rage, still unable to say anything.
"We're sorry, Professor." Vincent felt anything if sorry, wishing that he didn't have to prolong the moment any longer then necessary, but he felt that perhaps an apology would make Hojo stop his assault...
"I suppose you are." The cold tone was back into his voice. "Despite whatever activites happen at night, I do expect people to arrive here on time."
Cid's shaking was interfering with his ability to move, and when he turned to head to the back of the room, one of the crutches caught on the step leading upwards. He gave a surprised noise as his support gave out, trying to keep his balance in vain. Vincent was at his side at an instant, catching him and stopping his descent to the floor. The giggles from the rest of the class increased as Vincent looked on the floor for the missing crutch. He could feel Cid trembling through the arm that rested across his shoulder. Turning slightly, he found Hojo standing next to him, holding the crutch in his hands.
"You should be more careful, Cid..." The cruel tone was back in his voice. "Some people don't want you to be hurt."
"Too #$^#in' bad you're not one of 'em, you #^#@..." Cid mumbled almost inaudibly underneath his breath. Vincent took the crutch and gave it back to him. Cid took it angrily, taking a bit more care in making his way to the seat in the back. The whispering and giggling had increased again, and Vincent found himself wishing that he had never left the comfort of his bed and Cid this morning...
He shook his head, wondering for a moment why including Cid had been so automatic, then decided not to think about it.
He slid into his seat, sighing softly as Cid struggled near him to get into his own. Although he was having difficulty, Vincent had a feeling that Cid wanted to do this by himself, and he was most likely correct.
However, this did not go unnoticed.
"Having some trouble, are we?" The cold voice from the front of the class came to them. "Why don't you ask for help?"
Cid finally got into the seat with a jerk then crossed his arms, this time speaking loud enough to be heard. "Because I don't #$^#in' need help."
Fortunatly, Prof. Hojo decided to leave it at that and return to what he had previously been explaining on the overhead. Vincent found himself automatically leaning to one side to get paper out of his backpack when he realized he didn't have it with him. He sighed softly and leaned forward, resting his head on his hands as the professor's tone became a meaningless drone.
He knew he should be paying more attention, but his voice was blurring away as he found what his mind apparently deemed more important thoughts coming to mind. He glanced over at Cid, who had his head propped up by one hand and was tapping the other impatiently on the desktop. Vincent could still see the bandages that wrapped around Cid's knuckles and the dark bruises from what had happened the night before.
The world in front of him blurred slightly, and he knew that to be the signal that began his daydreams. It wasn't as if the world in front of him completely disappeared, it simply blurred as he didn't focus on it anymore. He stared forward at some point beyond the room, and everything became indisctinct, even sound as Prof. Hojo continued to speak about emotions and different viewpoints on things.
Typically this mental state was reserved for daydreams, but now he was just thinking. He let his mind wander and found it dwelling on something that had taken up most of his thoughts ever since he had began here.
Cid Highwind.
He was worried that Cid may get attacked again...he was fairly sure that the Weapons weren't in this class, so that was a relief. But what if they were in one of his other classes...? And he knew that he couldn't be with Highwind forever...
A startling thought came to him. He was also a target...what if the Weapons came for him? Despite their similiarity of body type, he could tell that Cid was much stronger, or at least more skilled, then he was...and even he had not fared well against the Weapons...what chance could he have if they came after HIM?
He didn't want to think about that...he'd just have to be careful, that's all...his thoughts wandered to Reeve, and he mentally added him in as well...he'd have make sure that Reeve was safe as well...he didn't want anyone getting hurt because of him...
He wondered what Highwind would be doing after class...he had to stay a night in his own room once, so he couldn't go back with him...and it was the middle of the day anyway, so there was a lot of time. Surely Highwind didn't want to spend the entire time with HIM, did he? Personally, Vincent could not see why he was so interesting, or why Cid seemed to think he was. All he really did was draw, or watch TV, and talk...
Maybe that's why Highwind stayed with him, because his activities weren't strenous or demanding, and that he felt more in control...
Vincent felt a sigh escape him. He felt so weak most of the time...not that he hadn't before. In almost all of his previous relationships, the power had been located elsewhere. He had always been told where to go, what to do, almost what to say, and his opinion had almost always been meaningless...he thought that maybe in college he could escape such suffocating relationships...
It was true that their friendship was not like that, but still Vincent felt weak. He didn't feel as though he could stand up for himself, or what he wanted, or anything like that. Why? He didn't know.
He felt the age-old pangs of depression creeping up into him again. It had vanished for a short time, but again made itself known. Why did he even associate with other people? All they wanted to do was control him, or own him, and then again, why didn't he live alone? Because being alone was worse, and some part of him must have liked being controlled...or maybe because he didn't know how to live unless someone told him how...
Why, why...why was he even here? He had no focus, no direction...he didn't know where he was going, or what he was doing...he didn't know what he was going to major in...everyone wanted him to major in art, but he didn't want to do that...he didn't feel that his art was good enough for it anyway, considering...everyone always said it was too dark, or frightening, or morbid, or too simple...he couldn't imagine drawing his little sketches for money...he couldn't imagine anyone paying money for one of his pathetic drawings...
His one talent he felt was worthless...and now here he was, in his Studies of Human Emotion through Literature class with a teacher who hated him, trying to pay attention and failing miserably, and he didn't even know why he was here. Why was he here? He didn't know anymore...
He had no focus, he didn't know what he wanted to do. He was stalling, wasting time, until the decision finally would come, and he'd have to say that he did not know what he wanted to do. How could he say that, though? His parents were so proud of him, they pushed him, they wanted him to do art, but how could he say how he felt about it? They didn't understand his art, they never did...and they were pressuring him to become an art major, and he didn't want to be an art major...
Why, why, why did they think he could do this? Why did they think he was...he was mature enough to handle this kind of responsibility?
He didn't want to be here anymore, he wanted to hide somewhere.
He recalled words he heard somewhere...
"Why do you want to GO to college anyway?"
"'Cause that's what you do after high school!" In a frantic, panicked voice...
How he related...he knew this was supposed to be the next step, but there was nowhere to go from here...and he didn't even know how to keep his balance on this step anyway...
He didn't want to be an art major, he didn't want to be here...he didn't want to have to continue living his life, making decisions and moving closer and closer to death with every breath...he didn't know what he was going to do. He didn't want to have to think of his life after this, meaningless repetition of tasks for money for things that he didn't need, but wanted to try and make his life mean something...
Why was he still doing this...why...
Why hadn't he died years ago...why was he still here...? Why were they making him continue to play out this meaningless charade of life, this life that was so empty and cold? A life with no purpose, no light, nothing...why did he have to play along?
Why...
Something touched his shoulder, and he jerked involuntarily. He realized with a start that his head had eventually sunk until it was buried in his arms. He looked up, then looked to one side to see Cid's sky-blue eyes staring into his own.
"Vin? Vin, are you okay?" His voice was whispered. Fortunately, now that he had returned back to the world, Vincent could still hear Prof. Hojo's voice droning on. So he hadn't heard or noticed...good...
Vincent sighed softly, not sure of what to say. How could he tell Cid how he felt? How could he say that he didn't want to be here, to pretend to be something he wasn't, to do what other people told him to do...how could he tell him that he never felt free, that he was forever imprisoned in this life that seemed so preordained? How could he tell Cid that he hated his art, hated his artwork, hated his predetermined major, and hated doing this? How could he tell Cid that...that he never wanted this...
He couldn't...he just couldn't...
Vincent turned his eyes to one side, unable to stare at those eyes, which radiated such concern that he felt was so undeserved. Cid had gotten hurt because of him, because of his presence...this was his fault, why was he still here...
He couldn't tell him...
"It's nothing..." He mumbled, not sure if Cid even heard him. Apparently, he did.
"The #^#$ it's nothin'." Cid's voice carried an undercurrent of annoyance. "C'mon, Vin, you can tell me. We're friends."
"No..." Vincent kept his eyes averted and even turned his head away, keeping his chin on his arms. "No, it's alright, it's nothing. I'm fine..."
"#$^# Vin, don't do this."
Vincent didn't reply, and he heard Cid slide back from where he was leaning across his desk with an annoyed noise. Vincent felt his heart hurting, and he blamed himself. Why didn't he tell him?
He couldn't...he didn't want to put that kind of burden on him. He could never tell him, he couldn't. He couldn't give Cid that kind of burden to bear along with his own...he didn't want to pressure him or make him carry his problems for him...he had lived with his own problems for ages. He had dealt with things by himself for almost his entire life, and he knew that he could do so now, if the need be.
And he needed to do this himself. He could never depend on other people, he could never do that. He couldn't, he had tried it before and it had failed. In the end, he was always alone, he knew that. And he had to deal with this by himself. He didn't want to drag Cid into his own emotional morass...
He felt another tap on his shoulder, and he looked up. Cid was balanced on his crutches, looking down at him with concern. "Vin, c'mon. Class's over. Didn't you hear?"
Vincent straightened up slightly, keeping his eyes down as he stared at his pale arms, now slowly letting the blood flow back into them after being kept motionless for so long. He looked up slowly.
"That seemed very fast..."
"That's 'cause you weren't payin' any #$^#in' attention, Vin." Cid tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow. Vincent looked up at him, worried, and found that Cid seemed different. He had something on his mind, something that was bothering him, he could tell. His laugh was different, and all of his body language. "C'mon, let's go."
Vincent pushed himself off the desk and found that he actually did seem to need the desks assistance, oddly enough. He looked down, expecting to see his backpack, but remembered that he didn't have it with him. Feeling strange, he walked along with Cid out of the classroom. Cid wasn't talking as much as he usually did, and he seemed to be focusing more on the crutches, as he didn't stumble at all.
"I hope you two payed attention during today's lecture, as I notice you had no paper on which to take notes." Hojo's voice came behind them, but Vincent didn't even bother to turn around. Neither, he noticed, did Cid.
The two of them left the room, letting the door close behind them. They walked in silence for a while, the uneven sound of Cid's crutches hitting the ground contrasting with Vincent's quiet light steps. There was a silence, which was uncommon for them, and they both knew it.
"Alright, #$^#, that's it." Cid turned his head towards Vincent, who didn't look at him. "What the #$^# is wrong?"
"Nothing." Vincent felt an edge of anger in his voice. Why didn't Cid believe him? Why didn't he just drop it? Didn't he realize that he didn't want to tell him for his own sake? That he was doing this for him?
"The #$^#in' #$^# it's nothin'!" Cid's voice raised. "What the #$^#, last night-"
"Look, I just don't want to talk about it." Vincent looked away from Cid, focusing on the lockers as they went by. Annoyance and guilt kept building up in from keeping this away from him.
"Why the #$^# not?" Cid was angry now. "I #$^#in' tell you what bothers ME! Why won't you tell me? What the #$^#'s botherin' you?"
"I don't want to talk about it!"
"Then what, Vin? What the #$^# then? What are you goin' to do? Are we just goin' to pretend that nothin's wrong, jus' like my parents? Jus' go along pretendin' that we're all fine and #$^#in' dandy and inside you're dyin'?" Cid stopped walking, glaring angrily through misty eyes. "I #$%@in' won't let that happen, Vin, I #$^#in' hated them for that and I still #$^#in' hate 'em 'cause they won't stop. For $#^#'s sake, Vin, what's wrong?"
"Highwind, listen!" Vincent stopped and turned, wishing he had his backpack on so that he could do something with the straps, grasp them, anything. His claw was twitching terribly as a result of the emotional stress he was under. "There's nothing wrong, I'm fine, okay?"
"The #$^# you are! I don't #$^#in' believe you!"
"Fine!" The word tore from Vincent with a mixture of anger and sadness. He whirled away and began running down the hallway. "Don't believe me! It's better that way! You don't want to know!"
"Vin, come back! Wait!"
"Stay away from me!" Vincent hit the door to the hall with a loud crash, sending the doors into the opposite walls as he ran outside. His claw was clenching terribly, metal scraping against metal, as he ran across the road outside, not sure of where to go. He had to get away, he just had to be alone. He had to go somewhere where he could think. He had to go somewhere...anywhere...
"Vin!" He could hear Cid's voice behind him, and he knew that he couldn't turn back. He chose a direction and began running, not sure of where he was going or what he was trying to do. As the wind rushed by him, he felt a sudden sharp coolness on his face, and found that he was crying.

~~~

"Mother#@%#!" Cid finally made it through the doors, only to see the glimpse of black as Vincent took off running in another direction. He sighed deeply and then collapsed on a nearby bench.
Mother#$%#in' god#$^# piece of ^$#^ crutches, if he hadn't had these then he would've been able to catch Vin no problem. Piece of mother#$#^in' #$^#.
"God#^$# it..." He mumbled to himself as he tried to catch his breath. Why had Vincent ran out like that...? He knew he was upset, he could tell in class. Vincent's face seemed to dissolve from the face he had known into this terrible emotionless mask, and his head just sank slowly until he couldn't even see his face anymore. Of course, Vin was full of #$#^ when he said nothing was wrong. Why was he trying to hide it? Why was he upset...?
Why would he be trying to hide something from him? He thought they were friends...
Cid leaned his head back and stared at the sky above him, watching small clouds go by as he tried to organize his thoughts. His feet were throbbing angrily, as were his knuckles and the cut over his eye, although he hadn't told anyone that. It would only be for a few moments anyway.
He thought he and Vincent were friends. Friends don't hide things from each other, do they? He sighed. But then again, in almost all of the previous friendships he had, there had been something hidden. He wasn't innocent either, he hid things from others as well. But it seemed that others never told him things because they didn't think he could handle it, or they didn't want to bother him. He usually told other people when they were bothering him, or would casually refer to it in conversation as something that annoyed him, but with most of his other friends, they acted as if nothing was wrong. They didn't even talk about it or mention it like he did. They acted as if it was perfect, as if they were fine, as if nothing was wrong. Cid hated that. He was their friend, he would be there for them through rain or shine, even if they were being a whiny #$^#% about something or wanted to cry. He was supposed to be there for them even through their worst times. But they didn't want to show him their worst time, they just wanted to be happy for him all the time.
He hated that, he hated it. He wasn't some god#$^# kid, he could handle it. He could handle having friends depressed or upset over stupid #$^#, but they never seemed to think so.
God#$^# it, no one depended on HIM. He #$@#in' hated that.
He sighed, wishing more then ever that he had a cigarette. God #$^@.
He looked back up, hoping that maybe Vincent had come back, but found the streets still deserted. Considering that was the only class he had with him, that meant he might not even see him again today. Mother#$^#.
He slowly got back up on his crutches and thought. He still had other classes to go to...should he go after Vincent?
No...Vincent seemed pretty intent on running away from him. Cid felt a sick bitterness overtake him, something that he hadn't felt in a while. He felt the slight shock of the crutches hitting the ground he headed back to his own dorm. No, Vincent apparently didn't think Cid was mature enough or old enough to deal with someone who wasn't happy all the time. He didn't trust him.
#$^#...
He found that thought more depressing then ever, and he felt his fingers itching for a keyboard. He had to get something out, quickly...
He walked back to his dorm, ignoring the jibes and taunts he got from others, although they were reduced in number due to Vincent's absence. Cid found he missed the taller youth's presence near him, his quiet voice, and how he laughed just slightly at all of his stupid jokes. God#$^# it, why did he have to do this to him? Didn't he know how much this hurt?
#@#%...
Cid angrily clenched his fists around the crutches handgrip. #$^# it. #$^# everyone. He had been alone this far. People had hit him or abused him, and he had been alone for all of his life. And of course, just when he thought he wasn't he #$^#in' was. Just the kind of trick life LOVED to play on him. #$^# it. #$^# everyone. He was so #^#@in' tired of this. Fine, he'd be alone again. He'd be alone, if life was so god#$#^ set on making him that way.
Although his thoughts were furious, he found a slight melancholy beneath them. For those few nights, for once, he had felt alive, he hadn't been alone...he thought for once life wouldn't be playing a cruel trick on him, for once that he would truly have a chance to be happy after life had #$^#ed him over several times...but it was just another #$^#in' prank...
Cid sighed deeply. He could really use a cigarette.

~~~

Vincent hid for a while, not sure of what to do. He was fairly sure that Cid wouldn't have followed him...not with those crutches...
He had wandered aimlessly for a long time, thoughts of his life, his art, his parents, and Cid running in endless loops through his brain. Had he done the right thing? Shouldn't he have told Cid something...?
He shook his head. No...no, it was better if no one knew. It was better, no one would ask him questions. It'd be better, things would be like they were before. He didn't want to ruin things with his stupid self-doubt...
He wandered for what seemed like a long time and found that his classes began soon. Not sure of what to expect, he headed back to his dormroom to find no one was there. More depressed then surprised, he didn't even find a note. Not that he had expected one. He grabbed his backpack and headed back out of the room.
What would he have done if Cid was waiting for him? He didn't know...probably ran like a coward again. At this rate he'd always be running from him...he didn't want to do that...but what else could he do?
He shouldn't have ran in the first place...now he had doomed himself to a never ending circle of running away. He should have known he would have done something like this...
Classes that day were meaningless, repetitive...he took notes as required, but found that his heart and mind were somewhere else. He barely heard anything that was said, particularly during his art class. He doodled around the margins of his page, sketches of the characters from Cid's story, sketches of himself, demon-winged, bleeding and alone. He was a demon, why was he doing this...
He knew he must be hurting Cid by doing this kind of thing to him, but he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't confront him now, he couldn't...he had ruined things, just like he had with his other relationships...this was why no one could ever get close to him. God...
His papers were filled with the dark demons, falling, dying, bleeding, and his own self-hatred. How could he have done this? What could he do...
He walked back to his dorm in the twilight, the feeling of all-encompassing depression sweeping over him. He knew this well, he had felt it for years. What fool desire had made him think that he could escape it here...?
How could he have done this...he should have said something. But no, he'd rather have broken off their relationship this way then have Cid recoil with distaste, or think that he was foolish, or stupid...
But he had never thought of him that way before...
But everyone else had.
He slipped his key into his lock and entered his room, finding Cloud gone again. No surprise. He put his bag down near the bed and sat down at his chair, staring at the ceiling as if hoping it would give him some advice. Finding nothing coming, he turned to his computer, dark and silent. Curious, he decided to go and read Cid's story again, to refresh it in his memory...
The page loaded up, off-white on black, and the familiarity of it reminded Vincent of Cid's first visit...and how embarassed he was over Vincent reading his work. Why? It was so good...
He found that it had been updated, a few hours ago, actually. Curious, but half-apprehensive, he scanned through the story until he came to where he had left off.
He could recognize the main character, Eiyon, was meant to represent Cid, although the two were essentially different in many ways. His mind creating the imagery to go with the words, he found Eiyon meeting up with someone, another winged creature, this one's name being Lyzndr. Although Eiyon could not fly, Lyzndr didn't seem to care, and they became friends. From the description, Vincent could tell that Lyzndr was somewhat based on him. They acted and spoke the same way, and many of their conversations mirrored his and Cid's.
That is, until the two of them were abandoned together. Lyzndr and Eiyon were cast out, and found themselves relying on eachother more then ever...and...
He found himself saying the words outloud, almost against his will, whispering to himself as his scarlet eyes ran over the off-white letters.
"Although he could not fly, he had found something else that gave his life meaning...his lips...his lips...met...with Lyzndr's...."
He paused on that line for a long time, not sure what it meant...had he written this now? Why would he write that today? After what had happened...didn't Cid hate him now? Why, why would he write something like this? He didn't understand...he thought that they were friends, but Cid wanted...this couldn't be right...
He leaned back and pushed his claw into his hair, forcing his thoughts to stop. He had to remember, these were characters. He wasn't Lyzndr, although they were similar. Eiyon was not Cid. This could mean nothing, Cid could have just thought it was a good idea. This didn't mean anything...it didn't mean anything...
He closed the file, not sure of what to do. How was he supposed to react to that...? Did that mean that Cid was not upset? That Cid didn't hate him for running away...? That things would be okay...?
He couldn't have such high hopes for himself...he knew deep in his heart that nothing would ever be okay, as long as it concerned him, he knew that nothing could be right, as long as he was involved. He closed the browser and crawled onto his bed, sprawling on the unmade sheets, letting his arms and legs flair out as he stared upwards. He felt as if something was crushing him...all this pressure that he could not deal with was crashing down on him, and now this...
He couldn't deal with this...
He turned onto his stomach, putting his hands above his head, on his neck, and closed his eyes, trying to go to sleep so that the real world would disappear for a few more moments, a few hours, a few minutes, so he could think of what he had to do...
So he could try and organize his life, so that he could find out which meaningless pattern would allow him to continue...
He felt his breath catch in his throat once, and something warm fall from his eyes, and he wished that he didn't have to do this. He wished he could stop hiding, but the metal against his neck and the doubt and hatred he had in his heart told him that he could never, ever stop hiding, from himself or from everyone else.

~~~

Cid sat in his room, fortunately alone. Reno had gone out somewhere with his friends, leaving the blond by himself. As soon as he had the room to himself, he had gone into his storage of cigarettes, and smoked until he began to find it hard to breathe. Finding no solace in it, he sat down at the computer and began to write, trying to find a way to work out his feelings or his thoughts into a clear form.
As he wrote for Eiyon and Lyzndr, he felt tears falling down his face that he rubbed away angrily, the bandages across his knuckles scraping against his skin angrily. Fortunately the bandages didn't impede his hands progress across the keyboard.
Envy filled him as he watched the two of them, sharing their lives and thoughts and love freely. He envied them deeply. Eiyon, although he couldn't even fly, was happier then he could ever be, now that Lyzndr had told him everything. Why couldn't real people do this? Why couldn't he ever have any real relationships that worked this perfectly?
Why couldn't he live in his own stories?
He rarely cried while writing, but he normally felt pangs of emotion as he tried to write things that had hurt him, or scenes that affected him. He had cried before. As he continued writing for the two, watching as they supported eachother, even though everyone else had ostracized them, he envied them so deeply that he felt his heart seemed to burn. Why couldn't he be happy? Was there some kind of conspiracy against him, or some horrible flaw with his personality that made all his friendships end in such horrible ways?
He wanted to get drunk, he wanted to do something so that he didn't have to think of anything. Even writing hadn't given him any solace, as all it did was reflect his deepest desires back to him and show him just how unattainable they were.
He had his hair pushed back by another pair of goggles, and another pack of cigarettes carefully stowed away in the band. Unable to stay at the computer any longer, he got up and left the room, not sure of what he wanted to do. He couldn't stay here and let his mind torment him...he had to go somewhere and get his mind off of the trouble that he was in, and find some way that he could stop thinking about what had happened between him and Vincent...
He shut the door behind him, hearing it click softly. He still didn't understand...
He shoved his hands in his pockets angrily and walked down the hallway, wishing beyond anything on earth that he could be Eiyon.

~~~

Vincent spent the rest of the day in his room. He didn't want to go outside and risk meeting with Cid again, not wanting to have to confront and explain something that he truly could not. He didn't want to do anything...his body seemed to have shut down, and everything just seemed so far away and so pointless.
His work that was due tomorrow didn't seem important or even remotely doable. The words that he understood before now seemed to be written in another language, and he wasn't sure why. He stared at his books that he managed to pull out of his bag when he made mustered the energy to move, and found nothing comprehensible. Even the pictures for his art assignment due tomorrow meant nothing, and he couldn't muster the energy to try and interpret the paintings. He certainly could not find the energy to try and find some hidden meaning behind everything that his teacher had told him to find. He had eventually pushed the books off his bed in disgust and simply lay there, unable to think or do anything. He didn't WANT to think or do anything at all...
Nothing seemed to matter to him...nothing really seemed important. He didn't even understand why he was here, in college. What was the point? Oh, it was easy to ignore, to push it behind him, whenever things got too complicated, to give pre-thought response to questions he got far too often, but when he thought about it, he could find nothing...
He didn't know what he was doing, why he was here...he wasn't even sure that he wanted to continue living, if it held such emptiness as he had just experienced...
His claw felt heavy and leaden, and he could barely muster the effort to lift and place it back down again, feeling the inexorable sinking feeling sweeping over him again and again, in neverending waves of depression. Such movement was as pointless as breathing, as anything...
He lay on his bed, staring blankly forward, thinking nothing except self-doubt as to why he was even here and seeing nothing. He longed for something to come and give meaning to his life, but he didn't know where to find it, or what it was, or even if he COULD locate such a thing. He didn't know what he could do, he didn't know why he should even try to do anything. Knowing his luck, there was no such thing that could ever give his life meaning. Nothing meant anything.
His eyes grew so acclimated to the dark that he didn't notice as the sun set, and the room around him turned black. He didn't wonder or even feel concerned for the fact that his roommate had not returned, and he did not look at the clock hear his bed. He didn't see how the hours ticked by with him staring, just staring into the darkness and having it stare back, asking him the same question over and over. Why.
Vincent eventually fell asleep, even his own mind not able to stave off exhaustion for long. His scarlet eyes closed, and he slipped into slumber, not caring or worrying over his unfinished homework or unreturned calls. He just wanted to disappear, and he depended on sleep to do this for him.
It had always been a respite for him.

~~~

Cid was restless for most of the night. He called Reeve several times, despite Reeve's constant statements of not being able to come over or let him go over there due to work, and paced around the room often. He finished his homework quickly and carelessly and surfed the web, avoiding his own site and his own story, for fear of what else he may write and how much further he might depress himself. The nervous energy he had now was better then the listlessness and hopelessness he felt before.
He checked his mail, finding the usual demanding emails asking him when he'd update, and found his replies to them more curt and aggressive then he intended.
It was only when he went outside and found a Talent Show, being held the day after tomorrow, that he realized how he could apologize. He removed the poster from the wall roughly, leaving the corners, and returned to his room, a smile on his face.
But he had to get through tomorrow to get to the day after...could he wait that long?
The poster had given him hope. He would at least go visit Vincent at his room tomorrow, if nothing else. Just to say hello, or get notes, or something along those lines. He doubted that Vincent would even open the door, but he wanted to make the effort. Even if, in the end, he'd just ask Vincent to come to the show in a few days.
That way, things would be better.
If he believed that, he was certain that they would.

~~~

Vincent fell asleep that night uneasily, his rest tormented by nightmares that he thought he had stopped having. Winged creatures flitted back and forth, blood, death...and the horrific screeching, the bang noise, and the nothing after that. He hated these dreams, but he didn't know what to do about them. He had never been able to control his dreams, nor be able to identify them as dreams or, as they had been more often then not, nightmares. He simply had to suffer through them until his body woke him, frightened and shaky.
This time the banging noise insisted, and he pushed himself out of bed, groggy and confused. He touched his claw to his forehead, metal shocking him more to the conscious world, as he tried to focus his scarlet eyes. He could see Cloud moving towards the door, also groggy and confused. He wondered what time it was, but didn't have a clock nearby to tell.
He rubbed his head and slid his feet out from underneath the covers, the cold air a shock to them, as he heard Cloud open the door. He stood and turned in time to see Cloud take a step back, his face caught much in the same manner as a deer caught in headlights. This woke Vincent more fully, and he looked at the doorway to try and see what had caused such a strange and unknown reaction.
Standing in the doorway were three people, one of them smirking and already making their way into the room. He knew that look well, the malevolent glint from their glasses and that smirk.
"We're searching this room." That voice penetrated Vincent's thoughts, but he didn't fully comprehend what it meant. Confused, he looked at Cloud, who was closing and opening his mouth as if expecting there to be words coming out.
"B..but I...I haven't...there's nothing...nothing in here..."
Prof. Hojo moved to the center of the room, standing with his arms crossed. The two behind him took their places on either side, both female. Vincent inclined his head slightly. They both looked somewhat familiar, but he didn't know where he had seen them before. They were probably members of the staff or something.
"Shera, take that side of the room. Lucrecia, take his." Hojo looked sidelong at Vincent before turning towards the wall that held their closets. "I'll take care of this."
"Wait, you can't, you c-can't do this..." Cloud was shaking now, visibly frightened. Vincent wasn't sure why he was so frightened, and now that he thought about it, why their room was even being searched.
He struggled to think, and found one of the woman tearing into his desk, looking in, around, and under things with reckless abandon.
"Hey..." He protested feebly, but found they didn't even hear him. He suddenly felt extremely violated, even more so when he turned and noticed Prof. Hojo pulling out all of his clothes, all of which were black or grey, out of his drawers.
He found himself backing out of the room unconsciously, not sure of what to do. He felt himself colliding with someone else, and jerked away sharply, finding himself shaking slightly.
He found a soft, warm smile greeting him, and he felt somewhat suspicious, but better then he would have otherwise. It looked very much in place on the kindly face in front of him, framed with black hair that spiked around at angles that were almost as insane as Clouds. The youth was the same height as he was, dressed mainly in greys or blacks, but seemed stronger and more easy-going. He could read it in in his body language as he leaned against the doorframe, smiling, but also radiating concern as Cloud eventually also found his way outside.
"I told you, but you never listen to me..." His voice was pleasant and warm, even though he sounded mocking. Cloud looked at him with desperation that was quickly hid.
"Shut up, Zack, how was I supposed to know this would happen?"
Zack turned and leaned his back on the side of the door and put his hands behind his head, casting his eyes upwards. "It's not MY fault that you got caught. I toooold you to be more careful...I mean, honestly."
Cloud turned and leaned against the taller male, crossing his arms and sulking moodily, casting dark looks at Vincent while doing so. "I don't need to hear this right now."
Zack rolled his eyes and mimicked Cloud's voice. "Wah wah, not right now, wah wah, I'm wrong, wah wah wah..."
Cloud made an annoyed noise, but didn't comment further, heaving an annoyed breath and remaining as he was, leaned against Zack. The black-haired male was apparently strong enough to support him in this way.
Vincent, not sure of what to do, looked back in the room, finding Prof. Hojo pulling the wires from the TV and pulling the batteries out of his walkman, inspecting the empty cavity before tossing the opened device back on the desk. Shera was pulling down Cloud's motorcycle posters, inspecting the tape, the back, and the wall itself, even running her fingers down the exposed cinderblocks. Lucrecia was rummaging through Vincent's drawers, and moving up to his books.
"How long are they going to do this...?" Vincent felt worse, more open, the more they looked around his posessions. The same ugly sensation he felt when the others had been staring at him in class was coming back, and he felt somewhat sick.
Someone collided into his back, and he again jerked away sharply with a gasp, turning to see who had run into him this time.
Cid's eyes were concerned and worried, and unlike Zack's seemingly calm exterior, Cid looked frazzled. "Holy mother %^#%, Vin, what the #$^#'s goin' on?"
Vincent wasn't sure what to do. The previous events of the last day ran through his mind, and he didn't know what to say. Eventually, words escaped him although he didn't intend them to. "They're searching my room!"
He sounded more distressed then he intended and he turned away and hugged his arms, not sure of what to say. Now that he was here, what could he do...? He couldn't very well run away now...but he still couldn't face him. He still couldn't explain himself. What was he supposed to do?
When he turned, he found Cid was clinging to the doorframe as well. "#$^#. Why th' #$^# they doin' your room? That doesn't make any sense. #$^#."
"Ah!"
The sharp sound caught everyone's attention, and instantly four heads crowded near the doorway. Vincent could feel Zack's hairspikes brushing against the side of his face, almost the same shade as his own. Beneath him he could sense Cloud and Cid, both looking in worry.
Lucrecia walked into the center of the room, carrying a bottle by her fingertips, as if worried about contaminating it.
"@#^%!"
Cid's obscenity suddenly jogged Vincent's memory, and he recalled that night Cid had spent with him, completely drunk, and he had taken the bottle away and put it behind some of his books to get rid of later...and he had completely forgotten about it. Panic seized Vincent suddenly, and he found his hands gripping the back of Cid's shirt convulsively.
"Ah, so what do we have here?" Prof. Hojo stepped off of the chair he was using to examine the light fixtures and adjusted his glasses, smiling. Shera moved off of Cloud's bed, joining his side, shaking her head and making disapproving noises. "Hmm."
He took it himself, holding the bottle with what seemed to be completely misplaced care, and he turned to the four in the doorway, each with almost the same expression of terror. "May I ask who this belongs to?"
"It's not mine!" Cloud's panicked voice broke the silence first. Vincent was seized with panic. He couldn't say it was Cid's, that would get him into trouble, but if he said it was his, then...
"It was found on your desk, Vincent." Hojo's sharp eyes seemed to stab into Vincent's own, and he felt sick again. "Care to explain?"
Cid backed out of the huddle sharply, thudding his fist against the wall in anger. "#$^#!"
Unintentionally, this did more then he thought. From the light fixture that Prof. Hojo had just unscrewed, several small bags fell free, each filled with a vague, whitish powder. They landed and bounced off of Hojo's head almost comically, where they landed on the floor with soft noises. Shera knelt and examined them, holding her head and making worried noises, while Lucrecia put a thin hand over her mouth to conceal her amusement.
Vincent's mouth hung open, as did everyone else's in the doorway, including Cid who had looked back into the room.
There was an awkward silence for some time, then finally Vincent felt words escaping him without thought. "Those....those aren't mine."
Hojo looked overly-thoughtful and shook his head in a mock-concerned way. "Of course they aren't yours, someone planted them, am I right? You're all innocent little boys here, right?"
Zack whispered through his teeth. "In the LIGHT? Jesus..."
Cloud's response was panicky. "I didn't think...honestly I..."
"Well, let's put these aside for now and resume our little search, hmm?" Hojo put the objects on the desk. "It seems to be having such fruitful results."
"Vin, Vin, that bottle, it's-" Cid jerked on Vincent's sleeve urgently, hissing. Vincent cut him off, his voice soft.
"Don't say anything."
The three resumed searching the room, this time Lucrecia spending more time with Vincent's desk. Since nothing else was to be found there, she began to look underneath his bed, while Shera herself began to examine Cloud's desk and shelves. Hojo began to pull through Cloud's closet, tossing out the items onto the floor as they left his careful hands.
"#$^#." Cid mumbled under his breath. Zack sighed deeply and put a hand to his head.
"Last thing we need right now..."
"What's this?" Lucrecia withdrew from underneath the bed, holding a small stuff animal. It was a small bat with a happy expression, no bigger then her hand, with big floppy wings. She stared at it in confusion, not noticing Vincent blushing brightly.
"Oh, don't touch him!"
Vincent moved into the room and pulled the bat from her hands with concern. He felt eyes boring into him, and he blushed terribly as he tried to explain in a soft voice. "Um...his name's Mordakai...I've had him forever..."
Hojo plucked the toy from Vincent's hands, examining it carefully, squeezing it, then finally putting it back in Vincent's hands. "Still sleeping with animals? That seems rather immature."
"I don't sleep with Mordakai." Vincent replied indignantly. He held the bat to his chest, where it seemed to fit perfectly. "I just feel better having him around, that's all."
Hojo stared at him levelly, then shrugged his shoulders, going back to the closet. "Very immature."
Vincent, feeling awkward but not sure of what to do, put the bat into his pocket, blushing terribly as he shuffled back out of the room. Zack was staring at him with an amused grin, but both Cid and Cloud looked confused.
Feeling as if he should explain himself further, Vincent looked down and rubbed his arm, leaning against the wall awkwardly as he tried to think of what to say. "I...got him when I was really little..."
No one really responded, and Vincent felt worse then ever. Although, the presence of the small bat in his pocket actually made him feel better.
It took some time for the room search to finally conclude, considering how many pairs of cargo pants both Cloud and Vincent had between them, and how ALL of the pockets had to be emptied. During the search more small bags were found, almost all of which in Cloud's closet or his clothes, and even a small bottle filled with unknown pills. These were gathered into a pile, which none of them knew how to deal with.
"Now, anyone care to explain this?" Hojo pointed towards the pile with a thin hand, smiling.
Deciding that he was never going to be able to get off clean with this many things found in the room, Vincent decided he might as well tell the truth. "The bottle..."
He caught Cid's eyes for a moment, but struggled to ignore them. "The bottle is mine."
"Mmhmm." Hojo gestured to Shera, who was writing on a clipboard while tsking. "What about these?" He waved a hand towards the remaining pile, with the pills and powders.
Vincent shook his head. "Those aren't mine."
"Well then, who do they belong to?"
Zack whistled nonchalantly and kicked Cloud roughly. Cloud jerked forward and glared angrily at Zack, who was staring at him. The two stared at each for some time, before Cloud finally sighed and resigned himself.
"...They're mine..."
Hojo gestured again to Shera, who shook her head sadly as her pen made quick, scritching notes. The professor moved forward, smiling in a way that made Vincent extremely uncomfortable. Leaning in close to the two roommates, his voice was chilling and quiet.
"DO understand that there is going to be repurcussions for this, you know. Severe ones." His tone on severe made Vincent shiver involuntarily. "Come with me, both of you."
Cloud shot a look at Zack, who shrugged helplessly. Vincent felt Cid's hand tugging at his sleeve.
"Vin."
"I had to, don't ask me why..."
"No, Vin. Listen. Come to the Talent Show, alright?" Vincent felt Cid's hand leave his shoulder as Vincent and Cloud were ushered along with the other three staff members, leaving both their friends behind. "Promise."
Vincent looked back and nodded, and Cid turned and walked away. Zack waved for a few moments, then turned the same direction as Cid had, walking away. Vincent looked back to the floor, finding his footsteps heavier then ever, but not as heavy as the weight of the eyes that stared at them as they traveled down the hallways, the substances that had been found in their room in clear plastic bags.
Although the atmosphere had become almost stiflingly solemn, something happened that managed to shake everyone completely. What seemed like a blue and yellow lightning bolt streaked past the group walking slowly down the hallway, pounding at an extremely high rate of speed, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"BORED BORED BORED BORED BORED!"
"ZELL, COME BACK!" Following behind him was a more brownish blur. Confused, Vincent and the others turned to follow the pairs progress down the hall, as had everyone who had been completely stunned into silence. The blue and blond streak was heading directly for the window that was open at the end of the hall.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOREDDDDDDDDDDD!" With a shout that reached an amazing level of volume, the young male lept out of the open second story window.
"ZELL!" The brown blur that had been following stopped, breathing heavily as he leaned against the windowsill, staring downwards in alarm. "You promised to stop doing that!"
Now that he had stopped moving, it was easier to see that the other male was wearing a brown trenchcoat and was carrying a cowboy hat in his hands, his long brown hair waving wildly in the wind. From outside, the cries continued.
"BOREDDDDDDDD!"
"Zell!" Turning, the young man dashed down the nearest stairwell and then vanished from sight.
Everyone seemed to blink at the same time.
Motion seemed to resume shortly afterward, with Hojo gesturing to Shera with her clipboard. "Make a note of Dincht and Kinneas as well."
She obediantly did, shaking her head back and forth and mumbling to herself. "I always thought they'd end up there eventually..."
Vincent found it easier to speak now that the silence had been broken, and his voice ventured out quietly as they resumed walking. "'There'...?"
"You'll find out soon enough." Hojo's tone, which was chilling in general, now frightened Vincent terribly. He tried to think back to the rules stated during orientation...they had said something about the posession of drugs in ones room, but he could not remember what the punishment was. He hadn't been paying much attention as he thought it would never apply to him, and now here he was. He would have cursed his lack of foresight, but this was really the last thing that he expected to, or in his opinion, SHOULD have happened to him.
After all, he only had alcohol, right...? It couldn't be that bad for him...he'd just explain where it came from...
But that would get Cid in trouble as well...should he tell the whole truth? He didn't want to cause Cid any pain...he was his friend...but...
Although he was used to such altruistic actions, sacrifices for those unworthy so that they'd be free, he began to feel a slight tinge of guilt. His actions that set others free...the thought of how Cid would feel occured to him for the first time. Sure, sacrificing himself would save Cid from pain...but then Cid would have to live with the knowledge that he HAD sacrificed himself for him...
He didn't want Cid to feel responsible for him, or feel the guilt that comes with having a friend take the blame for you when you knew it was your fault. Vincent was confused. This thought had never occured to him before.
But was it really his place to decide how Cid would feel about it? He wasn't sure...
He was so entrapped in his mental discussion that he hadn't noticed how far the five had gone. Now they stopped in front of a closed door, and Hojo spoke and broke the silence that had reigned for an unknown count of minutes.
"Here we are. Which one of you two gentleman wishes to enter first?" Prof. Hojo turned to the two with a malicious smile on his face, and Vincent unconsciously cringed away. Why did he hate him so much? He must, that would be the only reason why he would get so much pleasure out of causing him pain and embarassing him...but what had he ever done to him? Other then come in late...but that was unintentional, he hardly thought that could justify this kind of hatred...
While Vincent remained silent in his reverie, Hojo put a thin hand on Cloud's shoulder. Vincent noticed the shiver that ran through the blonde, no doubt from fear. "Why don't you go first, since your transgression is so much more serious?"
The quiet amusement in his voice made Vincent clutch his arms selfconsciously, and noticed for the first time that he was wearing his sleeping clothes, his sleeveless black shirt and his loose black pants. Blushing slightly, he looked down at the floor, feeling more embarassed then he had before. Why hadn't they given him time to change? Glancing at Cloud, he found that at least his clothes could pass for casual wear. He cursed his luck. Vincent was not aware that his clothes could pass for eccentric, but normal wear, and he wasn't about to let that interrupt his angry tirade against his own stupidity.
Why hadn't he thrown away the bottle? He said he would, he knew he meant to. Things had just happened so fast, and he lost track of time. If he had just done that, things would have been so much simpler...
Or would they...? He thought for a moment. Even if he denied posession of the drugs, he was almost positive they wouldn't believe him, and would have brought him in anyway...
He watched Cloud enter the room with Hojo behind him, almost as if the professor were preventing him from trying to escape. The door clicked behind them, and almost at the same time, the two women next to him turned to him. Lucrecia was the first to speak.
"This...may take a while. You can sit down if you want." She gestured to some chairs nearby. Silently Vincent sat down, not sure of what to think, as the two women walked off, speaking to eachother in low tones.
As he sat, a thought occured to him, and he put one of his hands to his chin, looking thoughtful. Why had they searched his room in the first place...?
He scratched his head softly as he tried to think of everything he had done since he had come here. Everything somewhat blurred for him. Picking out some important events, he tried to think of something that would warrant a room search...
Cid had been beaten up...but that wouldn't mean he was taking drugs or something. He narrowed his eyes slightly. The rumors flying about him and Cid...but that should be his own preference, that shouldn't have any relevance to whether he was on drugs or not...
Thinking back, the only thing that came to mind for him was when he had accidentally cut his arm in class...
He looked at his claw, which was clenching his knee tightly, and forced it to let go, looking at the sharp tips critically. He moved his eyes to his arm, where the glaring lines stared out at him. He put a hand to his mouth as he thought some more, a look of intense concentration on his face. Everyone had seen what had happened when he was at the front, or at least Hojo would have noticed. And even if they hadn't, just because someone hurt themselves purposefully wouldn't mean they were on drugs...
Although his conclusion on that wasn't as a clear as the others, it still left him pretty much in the clear. But if it wasnt him...
He turned towards the closed wooden door. Did that mean that...Cloud...? During all those long nights where he had disappeared for hours on end...? Was he...?
Vincent thought to himself carefully. It was true that he did not know Cloud very well...in fact, almost not at all, considering they had barely spoken. He didn't know what he did on his own time, and had never pried into his posessions...he was gone for so many long hours at the night and never told anyone where he was going. But to think that Cloud was on drugs, or even dealing them...it just struck him. He inclined his head slightly as he continued staring at the wood grain. Cloud didn't look like the type.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching out his still somewhat sleepy legs. If he hadn't put the drugs in his room, that meant they had to have come from Cloud. But still...why would they have searched his room? Vincent again looked thoughtful. If Cloud had any skill in whatever he was doing, he would have known how to cover his tracks. Anyone with THAT much HAD to know what they were doing...
So what had happened? Vincent scratched his head, noting the lack of his bandana. No wonder his hair was in his face. He brushed it back in annoyance only to find it falling forward into his eyes again.
Something must have happened with Cloud, while he was out, that had caused them to search their room. He didn't know what it was, and he was fairly sure that Cloud would not want to discuss it.
Either way, they both had to find a way out of this. Vincent paled suddenly. What if they expelled him? His parents...
No, he couldn't let them find out. He had to be careful...they should be more lenient on him then with Cloud...
He sighed deeply. Why did this have to happen now? Everything in his life seemed to be conspiring against him. The nightmares were getting worse now...Cid didn't want to talk to him...he had trapped himself again...and he hated his classes...
Why was he even here? He shouldn't be here...he should have died...so long ago...he should have died and saved everyone this trouble...
He buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply. Nothing ever went right for him, ever. Everything always had to go wrong. If he didn't know better, God hated him and cursed him with this horrible luck. He was even driving away Cid, who was quickly becoming his best friend. He always hurt everyone. He always did this.
He curled up on the chair and hide his face, although it wasn't because he was crying. His claw clutched the fabric of his pants tightly, and he tried to breath calmly. Within moments he had his distress under control, and only had a vague sense of unhappiness lingering as he uncurled slightly, his face passive. He turned towards the door, wondering how long the meeting would go on.
He waited for what seemed like hours, having to endure the stares of those that chanced glances into the hallway where the chairs were kept. He could hear the muted whispers as they wondered what he did...
No, he thought bitterly to himself. No, they probably knew what he had done by now. Everyone probably knew.
Shera and Lucrecia remained a room away, still talking in quiet tones. He wasn't sure whether it was about him or not, but the quick glances in his directions at times seemed to make it clear.
Finally the door opened, and Cloud walked out, his eyes glazed and open with fright and worry, and he didn't say anything. Vincent watched him go by, as silent as the blond youth was, as he stumbled for a moment and leaned against the wall, one hand pressed against the plaster. Within moments, Lucrecia and Shera were at his side, and they led him off, asking him questions in soft voices, no doubt about what kind of punishment had been inflicted and how he would go about performing the required tasks.
Vincent slowly turned towards the door, now open, and again unconsciously cringed away as Hojo's fingers held the door open, his arm held out in a gesture of recieving, as he smiled in a twisted way.
"Your turn, Valentine."
Vincent swallowed once and got up, trying to force himself to stay steady and to stay under control, as he walked into the office.
It surprised him how welcoming the room was. The walls were dark brown, wood of some kind although Vincent couldn't tell what kind, and a large desk was against one of the two large windows. There was a large plush chair set at an angle to the desk, it's twin lit by the light coming from the other window. There was an ornate marble fireplace on one side, although it lay quiet, and the walls were decorated with paintings and curtains of all sorts. Confused by the disarming surroundings, Vincent walked with trepidation into the room, noting the ominous click of the door behind him as Prof. Hojo closed the door. Quicker steps behind him, muffled by the thick carpet, indicated the professors presence as he moved forward, standing next to the desk. The chair was turned away, so that Vincent couldn't see who it held. He stared at the back, feeling sick and frightened, as he eased himself into the chair in front of the desk, feeling awkward as the softness sank under him.
"Vincent Valentine is here."
The chair turned in response to Hojo's voice, and Vincent blinked several times before he could understand what he was seeing.
The woman in front of him had long, silver hair that seemed stiff around her shoulders, which were a soft purple-blue color. She wore a dress that seemed to match her skintone perfectly, so the only way that Vincent could tell that she was wearing anything at all were the nearly transparent lines near her shoulders and her neck. Behind the strands of silver hair what appeared to be veined, translucent wings, a dark purplish-red color with small black lines running through it, occasionaly pulsing brighter or darker with every breath she took. What looked like a tentacle that was resting on the desk quickly vanished underneath, out of sight, and she folded large hands in front of her, hands that resembled claws more then anything else, as she regarded Vincent with a predatory and calculating look.
Prof. Hojo smiled in a strange way and walked around the desk until he stood next to her, placing his hand on her shoulder in a familiar way. "Valentine, this is the Headmaster, Jenova. She wants to speak with you about what we found in your room."
Vincent found his mouth hanging open, which he quickly remedied. Feeling exceptionally stupid, he moved his claw over his mouth, hiding it from view as he tried to think of how he should phrase what had happened. "Um..."
"Unless you would prefer ME to explain it to her..." Hojo crossed his arms, which galvanized him into action. Vincent let his claw fall slightly, so that he could finally speak.
"Well...the bottle..." Now he had to decide. What would Cid want him to do...? He had to stop thinking of how to make him happy, and what would Cid would WANT him to do...He had to think.
"Yes?" Jenova's voice made his entire body shiver. It was controlling, and invading, but pleasant all at once, and it frightened him terribly. "The bottle...?"
Vincent closed his eyes for a moment, finding when he opened him that his hair had formed a veritable veil around his eyes. He brushed back the errant strands in annoyance and cleared his throat for a moment. "The bottle does not belong to me, although technically it is my responsibility."
Both Hojo and Jenova blinked at this, apparently not expecting Vincent to admit to his guilt. He wondered if Cloud had before him, but didn't have much chance to think about it.
"If it didn't belong to you, then who did it belong to?" He shivered again at the sound of Jenova's voice.
Vincent closed his eyes for a moment before speaking, his voice controlled and soft. "Highwind. Cid Highwind. However, the bottle is my responsibility, and I'm willing to take whatever punishment is required for what I've done."
Hojo and Jenova exchanged glances for a moment, as if having some kind of mental rapport. Hojo, much to Vincent's relief, was the one to speak.
"This IS your first transgression, and your willingness and maturity in dealing with it are indeed admirable." Hojo spoke with a certain reluctance. "However, you WILL be required to begin to visit a weekly group, for those involved with drugs or alcohol, and we will be contacting your parents, although we will tell them what you told us now."
Vincent felt his heart sink, although he allowed nothing to show on his face. His parents...he had been futiley hoping that his parents would not be dragged in, but at least it shouldn't be too terrible... "I understand."
"You do also realize..." Jenova's voice struck right through him again, as if she knew everything he was thinking. "We will be searching Highwind's room as well, if what you have told us is true."
Vincent hadn't thought of that, but he let none of his worry or doubt show on his face. He simply nodded, keeping his face completely blank. "I understand."
"Good. Thankfully, this went much quicker then with the Strife boy." Hojo rolled his eyes for a moment. Jenova smiled in an eerie way that made Vincent twitch compulsively, particularly his arm.
"He was amusing in his own way, however." The quite amusement that had snuck into Jenova's voice made Vincent feel even more uncomfortable, and more then anything he wanted to get away. Hojo smiled back at her for a moment, then turned to Vincent with a severe glance.
"The drug group will be meeting on Mondays, at seven pm. You will be there, and we will monitor whether or not you have been there."
The reminder of something happening at night brought to mind the horror that had befallen Cid, and Vincent jerked slightly, then recoiled, coughing slightly.
"Do you have anything more to say?" Hojo's tone made him wish he didn't, but he had to say something...
"Yes...Highwind...Highwind was attacked last night..." Vincent looked down, not wanting to meet either of the eyes that were searching for his. "He was...beaten...very badly..."
"Really?" This news came as a surprise to both of the authority figures, who once again exchanged glances, this time with more concern. "How so?"
Vincent rubbed his arm. "It's...not too bad. His feet were torn up pretty badly..." Vincent lowered his voice and stared at Hojo for once while speaking. "That was why he was on crutches."
Hojo appeared to ignore him, but Vincent noted the slight change in his expression.
"But...I think I know...who would have done it."
"Who?" Jenova's question demanded an immediate answer, which Vincent gave quickly.
"The Weapons..."
Jenova and Hojo again exchanged glances, and looked back at him. "They've always been trouble. Which ones?"
Vincent tried to remember if Cid had said anything about who they were, and found himself shrugging. "There were four of them...I know that much."
"Why do you think they attacked him?" Jenova's question came, and Vincent locked eyes with Hojo, the hatred in his voice lying just below the surface, slow and deliberate.
"They thought he was gay."
"Oh?" Again the quiet amusement snuck into Jenova's voice, but given Vincent's current angered state, he didn't feel as uncomfortable as he had before. Hojo matched his glare, but the shifting within his eyes made Vincent sense that perhaps he felt a tinge of regret. Something was in those eyes that showed that he didn't approve of what had happened, at least, whether it was regret or penance didn't matter. Vincent knew now at least that Hojo hadn't intended to harm Cid so badly with his teasing. "And they attacked him?"
Vincent nodded, breaking off contact with Hojo who shuffled somewhat awkwardly. Vincent put his claw back onto his arm, holding onto it somewhat tightly. "Yes...it was at night while he was alone."
"Hmm." Jenova folded her hands in front of her again, looking at Hojo with unreadable eyes. "We shall have to speak with them about that. Thank you for informing us."
Vincent nodded.
"Now, please leave. Shera and Lucrecia shall answer any other questions you may have. I want to speak with Professor Hojo at the moment."
Vincent nodded awkwardly, not sure of what to make of the request, and finally stood, bowing slightly before exiting the room, feeling confused and sick inside.
His parents...he didn't want them to get involved...but if he explained what happened, they'd understand, right...?
He sighed deeply. He could only hope they would understand.
Once outside of the room, the change in atmosphere shocked him, having become unconsciously accustomed to the welcoming surroundings of the office. Shera and Lucrecia approached him, Lucrecia holding out a piece of paper.
"This has all the information you'll need for the meeting coming up, alright?" They were speaking as if someone was going to listen to them. Vincent took the paper quietly, not saying anything as he thought about what had just happened. "It should have everything you need to know on it. If you have any questions, just ask. Remember, it's meeting next Monday, and be prompt."
"Are you going to be alright?" Shera's soft eyes looked into his own, but Vincent found himself only desiring to be alone at the moment. He closed his eyes, looking away.
"I'll be fine..."
"Alright, you should go back to your room and sleep for a while...your classes should be starting soon, right?"
Vincent jerked as he remembered. He had to get to class! He nodded to them quickly.
"Thank you, but I have to go."
He hurried off down the corridors, heading in a direct line for his room in the dorm that seemed so far away at the moment, hoping he wouldn't be late.
Although with his current streak of luck, he most likely was going to be.

~~~

He made it to his class about fifteen minutes late, wearing a black trenchcoat over his black jeans, and a dark grey t-shirt underneath. He was breathing heavily, his hair once again tied back by his bandanna, with his toolkit held in his tingling fingers. The handle was sharp and cut at him, but he refused to drop the thing, knowing that it was important. He couldn't forget this.
He walked directly into the middle of his class while his teacher was talking. The teacher in question turned and regarded him with a frosty glare, simply motioning toward an empty seat near the edge of the room, which he slid into gratefully. He tried to catch his breath, trying to ignore all the stares that were coming towards him. He noted with a quick few glances around the room that he was one of the few males there.
"For those of you who may have missed it..." The woman at the front said, glancing at Vincent for a moment. "Welcome to Art 101. I'll be your teacher, Ms. Arrowny, although you may call me Relm, or Ms. Relm." She brushed back a strand of her hair that had fallen out of the kerchief on her head. She looked exceptionally young, and Vincent was confused as to how she could be a teacher. He shrugged it off, however, not viewing it as terribly important.
As she continued to speak about what she expected out of the class, what they were going to do as their first project, and what art truly was about, Vincent found his attention wandering. He wondered how soon Hojo and Jenova were going to call his parents...not too quickly, he hoped. He needed to prepare what he was going to say first. He hoped Cid would be alright...
He straightened as he realized. He had to warn him about the room search! But how...? He was probably already late...he just hoped that Cid had done a better job of hiding things then Cloud had.
"Excuse me, what's your name?" The woman, although Vincent was more tempted to say girl, was pointing at him, and he jumped slightly, startled. He brushed back his hair, feeling nervous as every eyes settled on him once again.
"Vincent, Vincent Valentine."
"Would you mind telling us why you're in this class?" Relm gestured to the rest of the class, the look on her face warm and accepting. But when she looked at him...Vincent felt a tinge of foreboding. He had rarely gotten along with any of his art teachers, and he really didn't think that Relm would be an exception, although he wanted to try.
"I...I like to draw..." Vincent felt extremely awkward and kept his eyes focused on the desk. "I've been drawing for a long time..."
"And...?" Relm gestured with a smile for him to continue, but Vincent could only shrug and mumble under his breath.
"I...just like to draw..."
Relm seemed confused for a moment, and then smiled in a strained way. "Alright, that's perfectly fine. How about you, Rinoa?"
The girl next to Vincent who was dressed mainly in blue smiled in response to Relm's question. "I love art! I've been drawing for a long time, and I want to improve my skills and make my art the best it can be!"
Vincent felt exceptionally stupid now that he was faced with a correct answer. He should have been paying attention.
"Anything else?" Relm seemed pleased by Rinoa's response, which prompted the black-haired girl further.
"I want to learn more about art and where it came from, and how to use different mediums, and use my talent to it's full potential!"
"Very good." Relm smiled in response to her, and Vincent felt extremely out of place. He didn't really belong here in any sense of the word that he could think of, and to hear people give answers that seemed to come so naturally, but came so contradictorily to him made him feel uncomfortable. "How about you?"
She moved on, and Vincent was left to sit and think about what he should have said. Angry at himself for his own stupidity, he dug into his backpack for his sketchbook, planning on drawing until he felt better. He had only begun to sketch out a form before silence made him look up.
Relm was standing above his desk with an amused smile, while the rest of the class just stared. Vincent felt even more awkward then before. Relm held out her small hands.
"May I see that, Vincent?"
Vincent anticipated that his sketchbook, like so many before it, would be confiscated and only see the light of day at the end of the year. He watched the book slide from his desk into her hands, and instead of simply confiscating it, she began to flip through it. Vincent opened his mouth to say something to her against it, to warn her, to explain things to her, but in the end said nothing. He felt violated in a way to have his sketchbook looked at without his permission.
She turned to the class, the book held open by her thin fingers, smiling at them. "Class, I'd like you to come and see this for a moment. Pull up your chairs and such."
Everyone willingly did so, but Vincent lingered behind, until he felt that he should get up and at least try and explain what it was they were looking at. He stood at the fringes, catching glimpses of his stark black and white drawings as they flipped through the pages.
"Vincent, how long have you been drawing?" Relm's question startled him, and Vincent stammered slightly before he could remember.
"Um...six or...or seven years..."
"See, class? Look at this potential." Relm gestured to a page that Vincent recognized, a picture of Lyzndr and Eiyon in an embrace when he had felt lonely. He felt very embarrassed, and wanted to explain who they were, but her voice cut him off. "These kind of drawings can only lead to better things. It's always important to practice."
Vincent felt a tinge of annoyance.
"Now see the sharp lines here? And here? Very stylized, but that can easily be fixed with some more work and dedication. And notice here how the lines are a bit sloppy, that can be worked on as well. It all takes work and dedication, and a good art class to make drawings like these into something great."
Vincent felt very annoyed and somewhat hurt. He hadn't asked to have his drawings analyzed in front of class or used as an example, and he didn't appreciate having them belittled in this way. He felt awkward saying so, so in the end just remained unhappily silent. She finally handed the book back to him.
"These are great little cartoons of yours. But now you're going to work on REAL art."
Vincent struggled to keep his face impassive as he shoved the book back into his bag with barely constrained fury. Who were they to judge his art? He poured his heart into his drawings, and they dared to say they weren't real art. He felt angry and frustrated, and the class continued much along the same vein, much of what was being said annoying and frustrating him to no end. The minutes passed by like hours.
He wondered what Cid was doing.

~~~

Cid had sensed that, considering Vincent's room search, his own would not be far behind. He had to hide his alcohol...but where...?
He sighed as he picked up the phone, wishing he didn't have to do this.
"Catface?" He heard the phone picked up on the other end, then a deep voice calling off to one side.
"For you."
There was a scramble for the phone, and the familiar voice of Reeve came across, apparently in his Cait Sith persona. "Hey Spazboy, what's up? Is this about the show?"
"No, it's more serious then that. Listen, y'got to help me here, or I'm goin' t'get #$^#ed majorly."
"What's wrong? What can I do?"
"I need you t'hold some stuff for me...just for a little while. Not even today. Just hide it somewhere in your room, okay?"
Reeve hesitated for a few moments, his voice finally coming in very unsure. "I don't know..."
"Pleeeeease? There's no one else I can ask! Don't worry, nothin'll happen. Y'can trust me."
Reeve laughed at that, but quickly sobered up. "I guess...but if anythin' happens it's goin' DIRECTLY on your shoulders, right?"
Cid nodded, although that motion could not be seen through the phone. "Right, don't worry Catface, I'll take th' fall for you if th' heat comes down."
This made them laugh for a few moments until Reeve finally spoke again. "What do I have to do?"
Cid stared with disgust at his crutches. "I can't take 'em m'self, got those #$^#in' piece of #$^# crutches t'deal with...can y'come over here and pick 'em up?"
"I guess..." Reeve paused for a moment. "I've got about an hour before class...alright. I'll be there in a little bit."
"Great!" Cid hung up abruptly on that note, not exactly sure of why, and then got busy.
Dragging out a box he had hidden underneath his bed, he searched around the room for several painful moments until finding a paper bag that Reno had left, who fortunately was not in the room at the moment. Taking the bottles that he had hidden in the box, he put them carefully into the bag and took a stapler from his desk, stapling it shut. He heard a timid knocking on the door, and he rushed forward to open it, startling Reeve who still had his hand up.
"Hi."
"Hey! There it is." Cid gestured at the bag sitting in the middle of the floor. "Just take care of it for me, alright?"
"It's not goin' to explode on me or anything, is it?" Reeve smiled as he picked up the bag easily from the floor, walking back toward the doorway.
"Nah, don't worry." Cid smiled back. "It's safe. Just keep it for a bit, alright? And we can work on the talent show later."
"Alright. I'll see you then." Reeve moved his hand for a moment to wave, then moved it back into his previous position, heading out the door which Cid nudged closed with his foot carefully. He flopped back onto his bed, a great deal taken off his mind with that taken care of.
He put his hands over his eyes for a moment, sighing. "Why th' $%&$ does this $@#^ always happen to me?"
He straightened up and checked the clock. He had a few hours to burn before his next class, so he leaned against the wall and flicked the TV on, losing himself in a comedy that was on.
An hour later the knock came on his door, and he opened it with his customary sarcastic smile, supporting himself with one arm on his crutch.
"Well la dee #%^#in' dah, what do we have here? Wish I could be surprised, but I saw you comin' a $%&$in' mile away. Wait, let me hide my giant pile of crack I have in my closet."
Neither Hojo, Lucrecia, or Shera were amused.

On to Part Two!

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