This is the final rewrite of my old story. Please enjoy and review.
Warning: Disturbing images in this chapter
Vincent shuddered inwardly as the figure before him raised a glinting object. The room was dark and cold and he fidgeted at the discomfort of the cold metal against the skin of his back.

One lone light shone overhead. Looking up into the brightness, he briefly fantasized about the end. He turned his attention back towards the figure at his side, his vision impaired as a result of halation.

Ruby eyes blinked thrice as the color spots began to fade from sight, the darkness giving way to the cloaked silhouette by his side.

He could detect the faint smell of latex gloves that adorned the shadow's hands. He would forever detest that smell, as he would forever detest the Shinra scientist.

A gloved hand began to press firmly into the skin just below the rib cage, sectioning out the desired area. He gnawed his lower lip in habit, dreading the next part, but knowing that it was inevitable as he once again tested the straps restraining him. He could not help but shut his eyes tight and press his face against the cold metal as he felt the scalpel at his skin, and then the incision.

That cursed scalpel again...

So delicate a tool, yet so painful the sensations it could evoke.

His one good arm clawed at the table in vain as the painful pressure began to increase at the site of this degrading experiment. He dared not chance a glance over at his left arm, knowing that there would not be one so early in the torture.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but it too, was to no avail. He grit his teeth.

Why didn't it just stop beating already...

The gloved hand returned to prod the incision. He tried to protest, but as usual, found that he was unable. He couldn't find his voice, and his voice most certainly wouldn't find him.

It never did in these nightmares.

The gloved hand pushed against the incision, painfully stretching the skin and flesh aside as it reached inside, his body trembling in shock. A small squirt of blood shot up, marking the scientist's cheek.

He didn't even blink.

The gloved hand stretched, another tool coming over him and he heard the dizzying snap of a rib being surgically broken.

He lost his nerve, feeling the pain from years ago as if it were happening.

You weren't supposed to feel pain in your dreams, but anything was possible, wasn't it...

Vincent arched his back and opened his mouth in another scream of protest as his surroundings began to slowly change.

The scream died on his lips as his eyes snapped open.

As the tension began to slowly fade, he became aware of the fact that he was actually lying on his left side. His teeth slowly began to unclench as the light of reason began to creep into his eyes. The crease between his brows disappeared as an eerie calm settled within him. Under his hand he felt the warm stone and not the cold and impenetrable metal of the lab table.

This was the third night in a row that he had experienced the same nightmare.

He leaned into his claw, pushing himself to a sitting position as he dazedly raked a hand through his hair, claw gently scraping the stone beneath him as he steadied himself. He sighed and began to try to catch his breath, feeling his heart beat anxiously. He listened intently for a few moments.

He could never hear his own screams, however, they always managed to make it out of the nightmares, and he was hoping that they hadn't disturbed the figure he knew was watching him from the shadows.

He sighed, seeing the glint of the scalpel all too clearly in his mind.

Of all of the twisted, painful and damn near insane tools that the former Turk had been subjected to, the scalpel was by far the worst...the one thing that never seemed to fade...

He shut his eyes tight as he forced the image out of his mind.
It was then that a figure waiting patiently in the corner finally shifted, standing and coming into the glowing emerald light.

The former Turk turned away as the older man spoke.

"So, how ya feelin?"

He nodded.

Cid exhaled a quiet sigh of relief as he knelt to approach the solemn man, gloved hands reaching forward and resting upon his shoulders.

"Really nah?" he spoke softer. Vincent nodded once more, clearing his throat as he kept his gaze averted. "Really..."

Seeming satisfied, Cid turned away from him, finding the exit of the cave. He looked back at the quiet young man just as he stood. "I'll start the engine... Take as much time as you need."

With that he left the glowing cave, the night air cool he noticed as he headed toward the small craft parked a few yards before him.

He grimaced as he neared his plane. Dammit...he had left the engine running again... He was probably going to have to refuel come morning.


A light breeze sifted through the mountains and the former Turk closed his eyes, tilting his head back and sighing as it blew through his hair. It was the only little relief he was able to have all to himself.

The images had gone away now that he had regained control; gone back to wherever it was that they went when they weren't plaguing him.

Cid shook his head as he watched the other man take a breath from the window.

For a moment, just a moment, he could imagine the former Turk throwing his head back in a passion, his sigh one of ecstacy instead of hopelessness.

His heart beat faster as he watched the taller man turn slowly and find the path back to the ship.

Once again, Cid took the steering and Vincent sat down beside him, an indescribable expression on his face.

"You alright there?" Cid inquired.

"Yes..." the other man sighed as he leaned back into the chair, turning his face away from the pilot. Cid smiled faintly as he lit a cigarette, watching Vincent's chest rise and fall under his uniform. Stray locks of black silk spilled over his shoulders as he relaxed back into the comfortable chair. There was silence for a moment before he leaned forward. He seemed to contemplate something, Cid studying his movements with acute interest.

"Cid..."

Vincent turned his gaze toward the pilot for a moment, a little taken aback that he already had his attention.

"Yeah?"

The lone gunman moistened his lips for a moment before drawing his bottom lip into his mouth gently in what the other man could only interpret as an unsure habit.

"...Nothing..." the beautiful face was torn from his view as he turned away from him once again.

Cid's brows drew down suspiciously at that but he refused to pry.

After a moment of silence he turned back to the task at hand.

"...Where to?" he glanced at him.

"Anywhere..." he sighed.

Cid raised a brow at that as he pulled the lever and smiled at the familiar sensation as they ascended into the night air.

"Well you're in luck. I was on my way over to Tifa's. She's throwin' a party. I take it you didn't know?"

He shook his head silently, continuing to rest.

Vincent had been rather hesitate about reinserting himself into society. After meteor, the former Turk hadn't quite been himself what with the constant emptyness in his eyes, but then again, after his experience with Hojo, he had never qute been himself. Not one to sit in utter silence, the pilot took a calm breath before speaking.

"So, how've you been doin these days, Vince?"

The gunman turned to look at him once again, wondering why his nerves were still slightly jumpy. He realized that it was only Cid, that pilot that had leant he and the group his beloved aircraft during the crisis of the planet, meteor. A crisis that had given him some rather unforgiving answers in the end.

"I didn't expect to see you."

"Lucky you did..." Cid smiled as he momentarily glanced over at the digital map realizing how far off course he was. Meeting the gunman by chance hunched over atop a mountain near Nibelheim after his last delivery was definitely more than luck.

The gunman adjusted a strap across his lap, voice low and betraying none of the unease he was experiencing.

"What were you doing?" he asked curiously.

"Just cruisin' after work," Cid replied a matter of fact.

Vincent immediately shook his head, long raven locks catching the dim light overhead. What else would this man be doing out and around the outskirts of town in a plane.

"That wasn't a good question..." he said flatly, expression slightly disappointed as he gazed out at the town lights in the distance. Already he had already ruined the conversation.

God he had never been a people-person...

He was just about to abort the conversation when Cid's voice sounded once again, the craft tilting in a smooth turn.

"Ahh.. you're damn hard on yourself, Vince. There are no stupid questions."

The former Turk turned a little, the corner of his mouth turning up as he surprised himself with a rare half- smile that made the pilot suddenly anxious to reach his destination. It was that sort of response that gave the pilot the motivation he desired. You could talk to Vincent for an entire day and not work more than two words out of him and a cross glance.

A smile from someone who really had nothing to smile about was worth a thousand words...

"Do you come out here often?" Vincent inquired as they passed a layer of clouds.

"Yep. You?"

"I uh... No.." he concluded.

The conversation was soon thrown Cid's way as Vincent became predictably silent. The former Turk sat patiently as he ended up listening to what sounded like the pilot's hectic last few days of deliveries.

Once he seemed genuinely finished, the former Turk leaned back, closing his eyes. He could have sworn that only moments had passed, but he soon found himself rousing from a light sleep, Cid's voice slightly inquisitive. "Do you need a moment?"

The former Turk shook his head realizing they had already arrived as he immediately unstrapped himself and stood, following the pilot out of the small craft.


He paused for a moment and a cool breeze blew by as they stood on the outskirts of the city.

Their eyes met, Vincent's eyes appearing strangely tense under the moonlight.

He waited, waited for the pilot to speak.

"This okay with you?..." Cid smiled. "I'm sure they'll be glad to see ya.."

Vincent swallowed, recognizing the entrance to Midgar. The way the pilot's eyes suddenly narrowed and his breath deepened was somehow exciting. It was a minute transition, his senses picking up the slightest fluctuation in the pilot's tone.

Cid stepped foward, and Vincent found himself taking a step to the side.

"Cid"
The pilot looked over at him, raising a brow.

"Yeah nah?"

He shook his head and they both headed toward the city.


Tifa frowned as she looked at the clock, noting that it was nearing midnight. Cid had called nearly 2 hours ago after running into Vincent. What could be taking him so long to get them here?

She sighed again, Cloud turning a little to glance at her.

"You okay?" he inquired as he used a fork to prod the food he was frying.

"Huh?' the small woman snapped out of her daze, setting the celery stick down that she had been gnawing on. "Me? Oh, I'm fine." she assured him, her gaze wandering over and up at the clock. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ring of the phone. Before she could push her chair back, Cloud had jumped to get it, peeling the small device off of the wall beside a cabinet and pressing the on switch, Tifa watching him curiously.

"Who is it?" she whispered, Cloud putting his hand over the reciever for a moment, voice barely above a whisper.

"Sorry, not Cid. It's Reeve. " he stated. "Says he's got a job for us..."

Her eyes lit up at that.

"Better be after tomorrow..." she muttered. "I've got a gathering to host tonight..."

Cloud smiled, playing off his casual persona before covering the phone once more.

"Don't worry, it is... Just needs some help retrieving a stolen item..."

Tifa smiled.

"Sure. Why not..."

"Yep." Cloud grinned.

Tifa's smile slowly faded as she glanced back up at the clock.

"Wish Cid would get here already... What's taking him so long? Can you believe he ran into Vincent? Perfect timing I'd say."

"Mmhmm...It's been a while.."

The dark-eyed woman smiled, taking a bite out of her stick of celery, her gaze traveling back over to Cloud.