Chapter Text
Cid wakes up disoriented.
He tries to take things in one at a time. He's lying down, outside, on the ground – or maybe sand? His body aches but in a way that calls for stretching it out instead of more rest, as if he just recovered from being sick and bedridden for days. He moves to get up to have a better look around and try to discern his surroundings. Something feels off that he can't fully put his finger on. He does stretch once he's up on his feet and the familiar feeling of muscles turned to stone in his arm and chest is still there.
Then it hits him. He can't feel the lightning under his skin, the constant companion in his life is gone. Even more, he can't detect any aether around him. The strange, hollow feeling deepens once he manages to identify what it is.
"What the fuck," he murmurs to himself, shifting his focus onto his surroundings. There are no buildings within his eyesight to help him locate himself on the continents based on the architecture, it's dark with only the bright light of the full moon allowing him to see. He's on some kind of beach, the fresh seaside air pleasantly blowing through his hair.
Okay, let's backtrack. What's the last thing he remembers? Where was he last––?
He lets out a choked exhale once the memories flood him. Drake's Head and destroying the Mothercrystal, Clive's tears as Cid pushed Ramuh's power into him, the mysterious portal and damned Ultima … Death.
Instinctively, Cid starts patting his chest looking for the wounds he now vividly remembers but there's nothing, his body feeling exactly the way it was upon entering Drake's Head, before everything went wrong.
How––?
He frowns as he recalls his last moments, after he gifted Clive with Ramuh. He was still able to detect aether around him and feel the lightning running through his veins, even if the Eikon himself seemed too far away to reach anymore. So why can't he feel any magic now?
Somehow, he's alive. Somehow, he's no longer at Drake's Head. Somehow, his magic is completely gone… Well, right now he can easily find answers to only one of these quandaries: his location. He starts marching towards the sea, deciding to keep to the shore where the moonlight is strong, instead of walking further into the land, at least up until dawn breaks.
He can't help but wonder why he's alone. He can clearly recall Jill's trembling hands on his shoulders as he laid down bleeding, Torgal's whines as the hound scampered around them, restless with no clear way to help his humans, and Clive kneeling next to him, begging for Cid not to leave him. Oh, Clive, at that point Cid would do anything for the man but this was a wish he couldn't grant.
Cid doesn't understand why he's back but if there's one thing he desires upon his return, it's to see Clive again. To see him flourish, as Cid knew he would after the young man was dragged out of the numbness brought upon his loss at Phoenix Gate and subsequent servitude to the Empire. A different kind of ache in his chest strikes him at the thought, not one brought by the curse eating away at his lungs, but by unfulfilled feelings.
Feelings that he never allowed to fully grow but was also unable to entirely extinguish. He's not sure he's ready to ponder on that so freshly out of his grave…
If fate exists, it must now laugh at him, because the moment he decides to compartmentalise his thoughts on Clive, he notices a silhouette ahead on the shore. A very familiar silhouette.
Cid's running before he can make a conscious decision to do so, falling onto his knees next to Clive's unmoving form. His hands hover over the other man's chest, afraid to touch, as he tries to assess the situation.
"Clive?" his voice is so faint it's barely discernible to his own ears, muffled by the whirr of the sea.
Clive is unconscious but breathing, thank the Founder. His left hand is completely turned to stone and the curse is disappearing further into the sleeve. Cid doesn’t like the sight of that but there’s nothing he can do about it. Clive's also older, his hair longer than Cid remembers, the brand on his cheek now a scar. How long was Cid gone?
Once again, Cid takes a look around, considering whether he should drag Clive somewhere else, somewhere safe, somewhere when they might get a healer’s aid. But he quickly abandons the initial idea, earlier he already decided that staying by the shore is safer than the darkness stretching further into the land. He may come across an enemy and make matters worse. Would he even know who’s an enemy and who’s a friend in this unknown future? As much as he believes he’d be able to carry Clive, he knows it would be impossible to protect them both if they came across any formidable opposition with Clive completely out of it. It’s better to wait for morning since it seems that Clive is not actively bleeding out to death but just needs rest.
Cid lets himself fall onto the sand to sit down next to Clive. He’s afraid to touch, as if it all could turn out to be a cruel illusion. Clive looks exhausted, even when he’s peacefully sleeping, and Cid waits, almost entranced by the other man’s face taken over by slumber. One thing didn’t change over the whatever amount of time has passed – Clive is still beautiful.
He isn’t sure for how long he simply keeps watch. Considering the fact he should be dead right now, he doesn’t mind taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of breeze on his face and, well, just being alive. He only wishes he had a smoke.
Clive’s whole body startles as he wakes, a small shake to his limbs before he frowns and slowly opens his eyes. His gaze wanders confusedly over the starry sky for a moment before it moves lower and lands on Cid. Clive gasps, turning his head to frantically look him up and down. Cid almost can’t take his stare – so open and vulnerable, so full of pain – but he holds it and doesn’t look away.
“So there was something good after, even for me…” Clive whispers under his breath. Cid whole chest aches. He doesn’t know whether there actually was something after death waiting for him that he simply doesn’t remember, or whether it was just nothingness. But he certainly doesn’t want to keep Clive in the wrong about it.
“Well, about it, lad,” he says softly and Clive’s breath hitches once Cid’s voice reverberates between them. “I’m pretty sure it’s me who somehow returned, rather than you joining me on the other side.”
Clive blinks in confusion and he moves to try to sit up. When he attempts to use his arms to lift himself off of the sand, he takes notice of the necrosis in his left arm. He abruptly moves his head to examine his own hand.
“I thought—“ he murmurs, frowning at the curse, but then he does sit up and looks back to Cid. “How?”
Cid chuckles hollowly.
“I was hoping you’d have an answer to that. I seem to have missed quite a bit, hmm?” he pointedly looks at Clive’s scarred cheek.
Clive just stares at him for a moment, without offering any explanation. Cid allows him all the time he needs despite the questions amassing in his head.
“Are you really here?” Clive asks at last and he sounds genuinely afraid of the answer, the tone of his voice immediately brings Cid back to Drake’s Head and Clive begging him to stay.
“I really hope I am, Clive,” Cid replies and finally allows himself to reach out. Slowly, in case Clive wants to move away, he places his hand upon Clive’s shoulder. Once Cid’s hand meets firm muscles under the layers of leather armour, he lets out a relieved sigh he didn’t realise he had been holding within.
“Cid—“ Clive says but he seems at a loss for words. He reaches with his good hand to wrap his own fingers around Cid’s wrist and Cid allows it.
They’re both here.
“It’s been six years,” Clive says and Cid closes his eyes for a moment to process the information.
“Must have missed quite a bit,” he chuckles but they both hear the frightened note below it.
“This feels like a dream, I didn’t expect to wake up again after—“ he looks to his left hand turned to stone.
“What happened?” Cid asks even though there’s so much this question entails at the moment. Learning why Clive expected to be dead does feel like a priority right now, even if logically he maybe should be more concerned with his own survival. But there’s no logic to the turmoil tearing him on the inside right now.
“I did it, Cid,” Clive says and Cid observes as these soft blue eyes fill up with tears. “I destroyed all the Mothercrystals, I fulfilled your mission, it’s done…”
Cid knows there must be so much more to it but at the moment it doesn’t matter. What matters is Clive falling apart before his very eyes as Cid moves to draw the other man closer until they can fall into an embrace. Clive sobs into his chest and Cid tells himself he brushes his fingers through the dark hair just for Clive’s sake, to bring comfort to the younger Dominant; there’s definitely no selfish need on his own part to hold Clive close and feel the warmth of his body. There’s a voice inside him that’s yelling not to let this continue, that he should just punch Clive’s shoulder and tell the man it’s all fine, as he did upon Clive’s discovery of his Eikon. But he’s allowed this one indulgence after his resurrection, right?
“I thought I would have to say this to your grave,” Clive’s voice is so soft Cid can barely catch the words. “And then, that I wouldn’t even get a chance to do that.”
Cid doesn’t really know what to say in response so he holds Clive through it up until the other Dominant withdraws, hiding damp cheeks behind the dark strands of hair. He murmurs an apology and Cid waves it off. Clive takes a deep breath and looks around, as if bracing himself for taking off.
“We should wait for the morning, you get some rest and I’ll take watch,” Cid says and Clive looks like he’s about to protest so the older man pushes him on the chest to make him lay back down. “I've slept long enough.”
Clive doesn’t fight against being manhandled but keeps looking at Cid, as if he would disappear when Clive closes his eyes. But exhaustion wins in the end and Cid watches as the slumber takes him.
✧✧✧
It’s long after sunrise when Clive stirs on his own. Cid didn’t feel rushed by anything and didn’t think to wake him up, content to watch over as the waves kept rhythmically beating against the shore.
Clive slowly gets up from the sand, he keeps forgetting about the state of his left hand as he gets sorted and ready to head out, and Cid tactfully doesn’t comment; the man will have to learn to live with it from now on.
“We should get to the Hideaway,” Clive announces almost distractedly and then after a heartbeat his eyes widen in realisation. “I will need to catch you up on some things before we get there…”
They take off, walking side by side, keeping to wild paths, as Clive speaks. He tells Cid about the destruction of the old Hideaway and the move to the Fallen ruins at Bennumere lake, about the losses and the ones who survived.
“It took some time but I managed to get revenge in the end,” Clive says without a hint of regret in his voice. Cid feels there’s something he’s omitting about the story, that there’s more, fresher resentment in him about Kupka’s actions, but for now he’s letting the younger man choose what he wants to share. He’ll pry later on once he has some better insight into the general events he missed.
“After you were gone… We needed to act fast, Gav and Otto were injured and with me now with Ramuh’s powers,” Clive fumbles with his words, his steps slowing down, and Cid turns to him, puts a hand on the other Dominant’s elbow to ground him as they both stop walking. “I became the next Cid the Outlaw. Some people at the Hideaway, some of our allies, they know me only as Cid.”
Cid can’t help but chuckle at Clive being so stressed about this.
“I am glad to have been blessed with such a competent successor,” he says before the younger man can worry any more about this, even though he’s tempted to tease him about it at least a little bit. But there still will be time for that, when Clive is in an overall better shape.
Founder, Cid can’t believe they once again have time, a later.
Clive glances down at the ground upon the complement, looks ready to counter it, so Cid slaps his chest and energetically starts walking again.
“Come on, Cid the Outlaw!” he calls after the other Dominant and counts it as a win when he hears a small, resigned laugh and then footsteps following him.
Then, Cid is once again the avid listener as Clive spins the tail of how they strengthened the Hideaway enough to return to the grand plan, how they started destroying the other Mothercrystals along with Jill. Cid is relieved that Clive had such a strong person at his side as he furthered the mission, both as an ally in the actual fights and a companion to lean on when the leadership’s weight kept growing on the other Dominant’s shoulders. He’s simultaneously vexed and unsurprised when a pang of jealousy stings his heart at the thought. The unwelcome feeling was already there before his death and it seems to have resurfaced along with him upon his resurrection. He should be happy for Clive to have found such a wonderful woman as a partner – and he is – but logic and sincere intentions can exist alongside the burn of selfish need to be that person himself.
Cid mentally slaps himself and focuses back on Clive’s voice. Just at the right time because the other man chooses that moment to drop the news about his brother being alive.
For Clive it has been years, but for Cid the image of him sobbing in the Hideaway’s dungeon is still fresh in his mind. He’ll probably never be really able to eradicate the memory of Clive begging to be killed, the most painful ones always stay more vivid than you’d like them to. With that in mind, there’s nothing but pure joy in Cid’s voice when he expresses his happiness upon discovering Joshua Rosfield didn’t die that night at Phoenix Gate. Cid has never met the boy, but that doesn’t matter when he knows how important the Phoenix’s Dominant is to Clive.
“He was with me there, at the end…” Clive’s voice trails off. “I almost lost him, but…” he looks up to Cid and there’s something in his eyes Cid can’t place. “I know we’ll meet again.”
There are still so many questions Cid has and some of the most pressing are the ones pertaining “the end” Clive referred to again. And once more, Cid stops himself from getting into his growing list of queries before Clive finishes the story on his own.
Mentioning his brother seemingly makes Clive think of something else because there’s a small gasp and then a smile before he speaks again.
“We wouldn’t get here if not for Mid,” Clive says with open affection and pride. Cid stops in his tracks, heart beating in his chest but not from exertion of their trek. He didn’t know if Clive ever got to meet his little girl, he didn’t dare ask now in fear of the answer. But she’s okay and still helping the cause. Relief washes over him, overwhelming and so very welcome. Clive stops along with him and turns to Cid with a smile. “She built the engine, Cid, the fastest ship in the whole of Valisthea.”
Clive doesn’t say anything, just smiles at him softly as Cid takes a deep breath to keep tears from falling from his eyes. He’s so very proud and misses her immensely.
“I knew the little bugger will do what I could only dream of,” his voice cracks pathetically and he clears his throat pretending that it didn’t.
“I may have got to be the next Cid the Outlaw, but Mid is the one who has the whole Hideaway wrapped around her finger,” Clive laughs. Cid can’t help but chuckle along with him.
“Sounds about right.”
They manage to make some good progress on their journey but Clive is still clearly exhausted and Cid won’t have him stretching too thin. Once they come across some sturdy looking ruins that offer acceptable shelter for the night, Cid announces they’re making camp. Clive’s immediate reaction is taking an intake of breath as if to protest, but they exchange a longer look, and in the end Clive just sighs and nods.
Once they have enough wood gathered, Clive instinctively hovers his hand over it, as if to light it with his own flames. But nothing comes of it and the man simply sits down heavily next to the pile. Cid doesn’t comment, not yet. For now, he takes out his lighter, the one he engineered in order to light his cigarettes in the deadlands, and with a few tries manages to produce a steady fire.
“So I take no magic is a newer development?” he finally asks as he takes a seat next to Clive, since the other man has fallen silent. He leaves a small gap in between them so as not to crowd Clive, but the urge to sit right next to him, their sides brushing, feeling the other Dominant alive next to him, is something overwhelmingly present.
Clive just stares at the flames for a longer moment, clearly looking for the best way to explain the situation. In the end, he begins with a question.
“Back there at Drake’s Head,” he starts, still without moving his gaze anywhere near Cid. “When you attacked Ultima, you said you knew what he was and that you wouldn't let him take me. What exactly do you know?”
Cid sighs.
“You know I used to be Tharmr’s Lord Commander,” Cid answers, choosing his words carefully. “He was obsessed with his god, everything he did was for Ultima… And one of the most important missions, he would keep saying, was to find Mythos to enable his god’s final plan. I took it for just blind preaching, slogans with no real consequence.”
Clive nods solemnly.
“I am Mythos. That’s why I was able to absorb other Eikons. I am–– I am the monstrous vessel for the monster god.”
“Clive…”
He finally looks up and lets their eyes meet. There’s pain in this hypnotising blue that’s different from whatever agony was present prior to the events at Drake’s Head. A different kind of self-hatred than Cid saw in him before. Upon witnessing it, Cid does close that distance he made himself create between their bodies before and once again puts his hand on Clive’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.
“What happened between you and Ultima when I was gone?”
Clive is reluctant to speak this time but narrates how the quest Cid left him with turned into something none of them could have predicted. Tells him why humanity was created in the first place, tells him that Tharmr was right about Ultima really being their god, tells him how that god abandoned them and then hated how independent and wilful humanity became.
“So much fighting so that we can simply be,” Clive muses. “After everything, I killed him. I absorbed Ultima’s powers and destroyed all aether.”
What Clive is saying goes beyond Cid’s wildest dreams. But it was Cid who created the Hideaway to allow their kind to simply be able to die on their own terms; And it was Clive who saw what their purpose should be. Goes to show, Clive did what Cid never thought to even aim for.
“I was supposed to be Ultima’s vessel but in the end using his powers almost destroyed me,” Clive says as he lifts his left hand, lets the fire’s warm light bounce against the unfeeling stone. “When I saw the curse progress in front of my own eyes, laying on that beach, I really thought I’d never wake up again.”
Cid wraps his own fingers around the cursed hand, even though he knows Clive can’t detect the touch, but the other Dominant does stare at their connected hands as if it was something more wondrous than fighting their literal god. Cid doesn’t say how thankful he is to whatever deities are left that Clive did wake up. Instead, he smiles.
“No wonder you slept in today, killing a god is no easy feat.”
Clive lets out a startled laugh, which is exactly the effect Cid hoped to achieve.
“Whatever purpose that mad being created us for, created you for, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Cid reflects. “You made it possible for us to have a tomorrow where we make a choice what to do with it,” he lets the awe he feels pour into his voice. “I knew you were something else when I first tried to recruit you after finding you at Nysa Defile, but you know how to keep an old man on his toes, huh?”
For once, Clive lets the compliment reverberate between them without trying to deflect it. For once, he seems to drink it in, as he stares at their still connected hands.
With another encouraging slap to Clive’s shoulder, Cid withdraws from the man’s space, and only then Clive lets out a tired sigh.
“I’ll take the first watch,” Clive says, closing the topic for now, his voice suddenly sober. “Get some sleep, old man.”
✧✧✧