Mary's story part one

Cid stood up and stretched, the joints in his back and his knees popping as he flexed. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and came away with a blackish smear. For the past hour and a half Cid had been crammed into a small space in the underbelly of the Highwind, and while it had been a highly productive way to spend the time, he was now somewhere between disgusting and revolting, with a dash of smelly thrown in for spice. His jumpsuit was covered in smears of black engine oil and grease, and almost every inch of exposed skin was caked with a layer of dirt and grime.
"Fuck... do I ever need a shower." Cid laughed. But first things first. Leaving his tool kit where it was (everyone on board knew better than to mess with Cid's tools, even that little bitch Yuffie) Cid made his way down the corridor and out to the deck of the Highwind, where he could have a cigarette in peace; that is, without Tifa bitching about the way it "made the whole ship smell."
Leaning on the railing outside, Cid took another drag on his cigarette and watched speculatively as one by one, the stars came out. Most everyone else was in town right now, having a good time before they headed off for the last big fight. Cid knew as well as the rest of them that they probably wouldn't come back; Sephiroth was a tough sunnuvabitch and crazier 'n fuck. Cid wondered briefly why he hadn't gone along with everyone else before remembering that he had volunteered to stay behind and make sure everything was in good working order. He really didn't want to watch Cloud and Tifa being all lovey-dovey while Yuffie robbed everyone of house and home. That, and he was worried about Vincent, who had disappeared very early that day and had yet to return.
Just then a dark shape appeared climbing up the ladder, barely distinguishable as a man in a long red cape in the ever-deepening darkness. "Speak of the devil," Cid murmered, peering at Vincent as he hopped onto the deck. It was hard to tell in the twilight, even with the bronze crappy light shining from the door to inside the ship, but was that a smear of blood on Vincent's arm? Jesus, it better not be his. "Hey Vincent...." Cid called, hurriedly outing his cigarette and tossing the butt over the railing. Fuck Tifa, she could go get it later if she cared that much. "You OK?"
Vincent stopped suddenly, his head jerking around like a man coming out of a haze. His strange red eyes flashed eerily in the dim light, but after a moment a weary smile appeared in the white face. "I'm....fine. Thank you Cid."
"You sure? Looks like you're bleeding, man." Cid walked over to Vincent, stopping a few feet away, suddenly unsure of himself. "There's some bandages inside..." At this distance he could suddenly see that not only was there blood on his human arm, but on the claws of his metal one as well.
Vincent looked down at himself, staring at the bloody smears as if seeing them for the first time. After a moment he shook himself. "Not mine, " he said brusquely. With that helpful comment he started inside. Cid stared after him, shaking his head after a moment. Vincent was not and never had been very forthcoming, but Cid had sort of thought he was begninning to open up a little. Apparently not. He had the sneaking suspicion that the reason Vincent had taken off this morning was because the killing instinct had come upon him. Sometimes Chaos got to be too much for him to control, and he had to let the demon vent. After seeing the winged monster rip out of Vincent's frame in the midst of battle, Cid was very very glad that Vincent was on their side.
With a sigh, Cid returned to his piece of the rail, and moments later a small red cherry re-appeared in the settling dusk.
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