The House

Rating: R
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Cid/Vincent
Warnings: Horror, Cid’s mouth.
Summary: Cid buys a house, but it’s not entirely empty…
Notes:

Reno sat at the breakfast table, staring at Cloud. Cloud stared back. Across the wide field, which was all that separated their little yellow villa from the Valentine-Highwind residence, blasted Suzi Quatro with enough force to rattle the windows and make the kitschy china salt and pepper shaker cats dance across the table.

“CID MUST NOT BE HOME!” Cloud bellowed about the noise.

“YA THINK?” screamed Reno.

“IF HE WAS THE MUSIC WOULD BE FROM THIS CENTURY!”

Cloud rescued one china kitty from dancing over the edge of the table to its doom. The real flesh and blood cats were under the bed. Their three year daughter Kin was sitting on the floor with her hands over her ears.

“AUNTIE VINCENT LOUD!”

“And probably playing air-guitar in his undies, too,” muttered Cloud.

Reno got up to close the storm shutters. The house was darker now, but the noise was appreciably lower. He turned to Cloud as he locked the last shutter.

“Vincent Valentine is a deeply strange little man. He barely says a word, hides in the dark as much as possible, lived in a casket for thirty years, and yet when you leave him alone for two minutes he cuts loose like a rock star in heat.”

“I don’t feel free to comment on the eccentricities of others after having marched through Wall Market in a silk dress and tiara. I wonder if he knows he can hear him?”

Reno cocked his head as a low smoky voice cut in along with Suzi’s hellcat vocals. “I suspect not. And I think I know why he’s so loud…”

Reno pulled out his phone and sent a text message to Vincent; ‘Valentine the hangar’s PA system is on. BTW – you sing divinely.’

Thirty seconds later the noise cut entirely. Reno put his phone away.

“That’ll send the little shit back to his casket.”

“You’re evil,” said Cloud.

“I thought that’s why you loved me.” Reno opened the storm shutters and took his place back at the breakfast table. “So where is everyone that Vincent is free to express his inner rock star?”

“Teddy and David took Benji and Aiden to a wild pony sanctuary, the crew have a week off, and Cid is in Rocket Town checking out houses.”

“He and Vincent aren’t moving are they?”

Cloud shook his head. “No, but Cid does a lot of business there. It’s just more economical to have a little house there instead of paying a small fortune in hotel bills. There’s only one inn and they charge through the nose. So Vincent has a little alone-time. I think he’s really enjoying it. Or he was until you told him we could hear him clear across the field.”

A glimpse of white caught their attention. The two turned in time to see a lean figure wrapped in what appeared to be a bed sheet race out of the house, scoop something up from the grass, and run back inside once more. Reno raised an eyebrow.

“Did you just see Vincent Valentine in a toga?”

“Nope. Did you?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Pass the honey.”

***---***

“Read my lips. Fuck. Off.”

Shera crossed her arms. “Cid Highwind you really are an ass.”

“Stop the fucking presses, the world just learned something new.”

“I was just saying if you are going to be staying here on occasion it would be nice if we could…”

He sighed heavily. “Shera it ain’t happening. Okay? Ain’t happening. I’m married with three kids and I am not interested in setting up a little love-nest with you. It would kill Vincent and trash my family.”

“Well he wouldn’t have to know, would he?” she said, smiling coyly.

“How about I call him right now and he shows up here and gives you a close-up look at his inner demon?”

“You know it wouldn’t kill you to show a little gratitude for all the years I spent looking after you!”

Cid just stared at her for a very long, cold, intense moment. Shera said nothing further; she simply grabbed up her coat and scurried out of the tiny house. Just as she departed, the realtor returned.

“So have you and your wife had a chance to look at the house?”

“That bitch ain’t my wife,” grumbled Cid. “She’s a lunatic and anything she tries to tell you about her and I being together is a lie.”

The realtor blinked. “Oh,” she said. “So she won’t be living here with you.”

“No,” said Cid. “She will not. She’s crazy and I have the restraining orders to prove it.”

Cid looked around the little cottage. It was cute, bright, airy, and perfect for a place that was basically a glorified office. But it was right across the street from Shera, and the temptation for her to come over and bother him would be too much. The gods help him if Benji and Aiden were over; he didn’t need her working his kids as the “nice lady”.

“Maybe I’d be better off just staying at the inn.”

“Well if security is an issue then I can suggest one last place,” said the realtor. “It needs a lot of work but it used to belong to Shinra Industries.”

“How much work?”

“If you ask me as a realtor I will say it’s a handyman’s dream. If you ask me as Sherry Bronson I’d say it’s a dump. But the price is very reasonable and it has some features I think you would find attractive.”

“Giant boobs on the roof?”

“Yes. Of course. All local buildings have enormous size triple Ds on the roof.”

“Awesome. Let’s go.”

They walked out of the small cottage and began walking down the dirt road to a small house just outside of the town. Cid looked around, noticing that the streets seemed strangely empty.

“Where is everyone?”

“Out at the Dragon Festival most likely.”

“Is that tonight? Hell I shoulda brought Vincent, he would have… totally hated it. Never mind, just show me the house.”

Sherry had not lied; it was indeed a dump, long neglected. Cid remembered the place from when he had lived in town; it had been an office for Shinra officials, and abandoned after Sephiroth stapled the president to his desk.

“The windows are bullet proof glass, and the door has an inner steel lining. It has its own generator, and a transmitter in the attic so regardless of whether or not the surrounding buildings have power and telephone access, you’ll still have power and communications. And the basement serves as a vault. You’ll have to haul the garbage out but it’s fire and flood proof.”

Cid slowly surveyed the dark damp interior of the little building. “How many ghosts are haunting it?”

Sherry just laughed. “The damage is purely cosmetic. All you would need to do is replace some rugs, flooring and drywall. The structure is guaranteed sound.”

“Makes sense. Those Shinra bastards would want a place that was bomb proof. What’s with the vault in the basement?”

“For storing documents and such. Would you like to see it?”

“Yeah.”

Sherry took Cid to the basement. He wasn’t sure why, but the place put every single hair on the back of his neck straight up. It was a solid reinforced concrete bunker with no windows, and heavily soundproofed. Every footfall, every word, seemed to fall dead in the too-warm chamber.

“Why is it so hot in here?”

“Well it’s very heavily insulated and the generator is right beside it.”

Cid listened hard, but did not hear the generator. At. All. That was very… disturbing.

“You’re sure this room was only used for storing documents?”

“Yes,” said Sherry. “I assure you this place was just for documents.”

Cid nodded. “Okay, looks good to me. Let’s draw up some paperwork.”

“You don’t wish to see the kitchen or…?”

“It’s Shera-proof. That’s all I need. Wait – does it have a fridge and a bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take it.”

Cid signed some papers and gave the woman a bank draft for the down payment, then set out to explore the little house in earnest. It was tiny, and the stairs to the upper level were a little loose. The small bedroom on the upper floor contained personal items long forgotten by the owner; some rings, a wallet, an expensive watch, and a gold tie clip with a diamond in it. Cid picked up the wallet and looked inside.

“Palmer?! Damn, this place must have been left empty since the truck ran him over.” He picked up one of the rings and examined it. “This shit must be worth a small fortune. Why would any…? Okay, I know someone pretty who needs to wear this.”

He examined a thin banded ring with a delicate setting of onyx and ruby. He smiled.

“Yeah I can just imagine how that interaction would go over. ‘Hey Vincent, I found a ring from a dead guy in the house I bought, it’ll look great on you!’ Well I’ll figure out what to do with this stuff later. Pretty rings, though. Maybe I should see if he has any living relations… oh yeah that’s a great idea, Highwind. ‘Hi! I helped shove your relative under a truck. Here’s some of his crap!’ Nope. I am just gonna leave these here and deal with them later.”

Cid continued slowly exploring the little house, listing the things he would need to repair. The place was in surprisingly good condition. He couldn’t understand why it had remained empty for so long, other than most people in Rocket Town just didn’t need a tiny one bedroom house with armoured walls. But it would make for an excellent office and home away from home, and he would never have to worry about Shera surprising him.

He stepped outside to light a cigarette, then drew out his cell phone, calling a number. As the phone rang, he gazed around at the unusually quiet and empty streets. It was just the smallest bit creepy…

“Hello?”

“Hey babe,” said Cid, smiling. “Enjoying some time alone?”

“I was until I realized the PA system was on in the hangar and all of Costa del Sol could hear me playing air guitar.”

Cid positively screamed with laughter, sitting down hard on the stone steps leading into the tiny house and laughing until the tears ran from his eyes.

“It wasn’t funny,” grumbled Vincent as Cid snorted and hiccupped in hilarity.

“Oh I beg to differ, I think it’s fucking hysterical. Aww… poor baby mouse-angel.”

“I was mortified.”

“AWWWWWW! It’s okay baby, I can promise you that no one can possibly think you are any stranger.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Cid chuckled quietly. “Poor baby. Hey I found a place. It’s well under budget and Shera-proof. Needs a bit of work but it’ll do.”

“You’re certain she can’t get in? She’s admitted more than once she would like to get her hands on your schematics and blueprints.”

“She’d like to get her hands on a lot more than that, but it’s not happening unless she can get through steel doors and bulletproof glass.” Cid’s voice softened. “Wish you were here.”

“Me too, but someone has to be here when the kids get back. When are you coming home?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“That’s a long wait,” said Vincent.

“Yeah, too long. I miss you when you’re not here.” He grinned. “So what are you wearing?”

“Bath oils and some bubbles.”

“Oh I love that outfit,” Cid growled.

“I’ll wear it for you when you come home. Hurry back.”

“Just make sure the kids are drugged into a coma and locked up when I get there or I can’t be held accountable for what they tell their future therapist.”

Vincent laughed quietly. “I love you.”

“Love you too, beautiful.”

Cid ended the call, then looked around. Rocket Town was virtually deserted, nearly every inhabitant would be out dancing at the Dragon Festival, dining and drinking and making idiots of themselves in order to appease a seven hundred year old red dragon who was too fat to fly, too old to chase maidens, and had long ago learned it was more productive to mooch off humans than roast them. Despite Rocket Town’s easy existence with their flame-throwing neighbour, they still threw the festival in her honour, and she seemed to enjoy being bedecked with flowers and fed whole oxen.

She was an easily placated goddess.

Cid could see the lights in the distance, and hear the music. They seemed to have a live band this year, not just old Mrs. Tabitha playing her record player. It might be nice to go for a while, have a few drinks, see some old friends, and just have a little fun.

He walked into the house, closing the door behind himself, then began heading upstairs to get his coat and wallet. He was almost at the top of the steep flight of stairs when suddenly the board broke beneath his foot. He grabbed frantically for the banister, but the neglected rail simply pulled apart in his hand, and Cid fell backwards down the stairs, landing heavily on his back. The last thing he saw was the heavy wooden banister heading for his face….

***---***

Cid slowly awoke, blinking open eyes that had been glued together with his own drying blood. He had the worst headache of his life, and he had only just enough sense to realize he was in deep trouble. That cold slick substance gelling on the floor around him wasn’t old gravy.

Cid tried to get up, and found he couldn’t. His legs would not co-operate, and he had a funny feeling his pelvis was in more than the recommended number of pieces. He was in a lot of pain and a lot of trouble, and he needed to call for help. He groped around weakly for his phone, and finally found it, smashed in his back pocket, its circuits glued together with a thick coating of blood.

Oh this was just getting better by the minute…

He lay on the floor for hours, drifting in and out of consciousness, remembering off and on that he had told Vincent he would not be home until the day after tomorrow. That meant it was unlikely help was coming any time soon. Dammit. Did he have any materia? No, of course not, why would he pack materia to go buy a house?

He tried once more to get up, but couldn’t, and was reluctant to risk moving too much. He had no idea if his back was broken or not, and he wasn’t crazy about being in a wheelchair the rest of his life. Besides that he had clearly been bleeding from somewhere, and he did not want to take a chance on reopening the wound and losing what little blood he had left.

Had he just heard a noise? Cid strained to hear any sound, but caught only the vague and distant sound of the Dragon Festival. He must have been hearing that, though he could have sworn the noise was closer. It had almost sounded like footsteps on a bare plank floor.

This would be a very bad time to find out he was not alone.

“Hello?” he said to the darkness. “Anybody there?”

“Hello?” whispered a voice.

He tried to look up. “Are you there? I need help!”

“Hello?” the voice whispered again. There was the soft sound of boots thumping quietly on the floorboards, then silence. Cid felt the air around him go cool, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose up.

“Anybody there?” he asked weakly.

The wind blew, but there was no response. Ohhhh…. This was not good….

He tried the cell phone despite its obvious damage, and was not surprised when it did not work. He kept it close, in case he needed to throw it at something. Shit, when was the realtor coming back? Or was she? Probably not. Dammit…

Cid lay on the floor, sliding in and out of consciousness, dreaming strange dreams about being dead in a cave. He dreamed briefly that he was Vincent, locked in a casket, broken in heart and body, and woke up to find he was still on the floor, and had been crying in his sleep. It was dark and silent, but Cid had the horrible feeling that he wasn’t alone.

“Hello?” he said cautiously.

“Hello,” said a voice right beside his ear.

Cid wasn’t quite sure what stopped him from leaping out of his skin, though he was pretty sure ‘paralysis’ topped the list. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“I need help. Please.”

There was no response. At the top of the stairs he heard footsteps moving quietly, and then stopping. Cid felt his body grow cold, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose as unseen eyes stared down at him.

“Oh Vincent where are you when I need you?” said Cid quietly.

“Dead…” said a voice. Unlike the ‘hello?’ voice, this one was deep and growling, and was definitely not friendly.

“You just stay the hell away from me,” growled Cid.

“Dead…”

Cid lay, listening as footsteps descended the stairs. Then something grabbed his foot and began pulling him along the floor. The pain was incredible, and the terror that he may be paralyzed was causing his chest to ache. The pain only increased when he realized the spectre was hauling him to the basement stairs. He reached out and caught the frame of the door, holding tight.

“You get the fuck away from me you damned ghost! I didn’t get into a fucking battle with Sephiroth to be done in by a piece of shit like you!”

The ghost yanked. Cid screamed in pain, but refused to release his hold on the door. Then the ghost dropped his foot, and Cid heard it walk away. He had no idea what the spectre was up to, but he had no interest in finding out. Slowly, carefully, Cid lay on his back and pushed himself towards the front door as best as he was able, crying out in pain, feeling his injuries begin to leak blood. He cried out in fear next, as he heard something running towards him.

“Dammit leave me the fuck alone!”

The door opened, and in stepped a lean form. “Cid?”

Cid sobbed out loud in relief. “Vincent! Oh man you have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

Vincent hurried to his side, kneeling beside him. “What happened to you?”

“Fell down the damned stairs. Get me out of here. Get me out of here NOW!”

“But you’re injured! I can’t move…”

The spectre returned and grabbed Cid’s ankle. With a speed and strength that was truly terrifying it began dragging him towards the basement door. Cid reached out to clutch at the door from but was not strong enough to hang on. He was thrown brutally down the stairs, where he lay in a broken heap, screaming as he heard the door slam.

“VINCENT!”

He lay in pain and darkness, panting in the smothering heat, hearing nothing but that profound and awful silence. Then the basement door opened.

“Vincent?” he asked hopefully.

“Dead…” growled a deep voice. “All dead…”

The thing began to come down the stairs toward him, and then Cid heard the rush of enormous wings. He had no idea what Chaos did, but there was a violent blast of white light, and the thing fled, screaming. He felt the ghastly cold sensation of its booted feet running over him. Then Chaos landed at the foot of the stair. Cid had never been so happy to see that elegant winged monster in his life.

“Just get me the hell out of here,” said Cid.

Chaos gathered him into his arms and hopped up the stairs, then carried Cid outside, placing him gently on the ground.

“Are you all right?” the thing asked.

“No…” said Cid, hating the fear in his voice.

Vincent shifted smoothly back into his usual form, then called for an ambulance. He waited with Cid, staying by his side until the ambulance arrived, then climbed into the vehicle with him.

“What made you come to the house?” asked Cid.

“Teddy and David decided to spend the night at a campsite near the pony reserve, so I came up here to see if you needed company. It’s a good thing I did.”

“I’m gonna want a word with the damned realtor about getting my deposit back. The place is fucking haunted! And the ghosts ain’t friendly!”

“I’m not surprised. After I finished speaking to you I went on-line and did some research. The reason for the steel doors and bullet proof glass is sound-proofing. It used to be used for “gathering information from willing informers” during the war. There’s no telling how many people were tortured to death in the basement of that house. I don’t want the kids in it.”

“Never mind the kids, I don’t want us in it.” Cid took Vincent’s hand. “Baby I am so damned glad you came…”

Vincent lowered his head, touching his brow to Cid’s. “I would have lost my mind without you. Cid… we don’t need a house here. Just stay at the inn.”

“Ah I can just build a little place with the money we’re gonna get suing the realtor.”

Vincent kissed him softly, gently squeezing his hand. The ambulance drove away, leaving Rocket Town in the distance. In the silent darkness of the empty little town, no one saw as the front door of the small house opened briefly, then slowly closed once more, as if something unseen was returning…