I accidentally deleted this, so I'm re-posting...sorry to everyone who's seen it before...
Brittle
It lay on the table, and the room seemed to darken the moment her listless eyes lit upon it. An instrument of destruction, a dealer of death; the gravity of it made the air leaden, drawing her closer. Her gaze traced its metal curves, admiring its hazardous beauty. A brief frown creased her brow as it occurred to her that it should not be laying here, unattended, for just anyone to come across. She darted her eyes around the room, probing the shadows, but its owner was elsewhere.
Her eyes fell again to the weapon, pulled there by the glint of light off its smooth, unyielding surface.
Peacemaker. The thought drifted unhurriedly through her enervated mind, and a bitter smile touched her lips. Peace, yes. But at what price?
She touched a finger to its surface, tracing the length of the barrel, over the frame, coming to rest on the handle. Its coldness burned, but she had always liked the cold. Cold meant numb. Cold meant detached, indifferent, frozen. All things she wished she could be.
Her hand curled slowly around the grip. It seemed to resist being lifted, surprising her with its inexorable weight. It felt like endings.
The metal warmed in her hand as she stood, eyes wandering its length, idly wondering how many bullets it had fired, how many lives it had taken. She wondered if it ever got easier to aim, and shoot, and watch people die. She wondered if it was loaded.
Her thumb inched unconsciously toward the hammer. Was Aeris at peace now? Were Jesse, and Biggs, and Wedge? She exerted pressure with her thumb, moving the hammer back by degrees, flinching as it settled into place, breaking the silence with a hollow click. The sound reverberated inevitably through the empty room.
Never give up, never give up hope. Aeris had said that. She'd been the heart of the group, always with a kind word or a smile to lift flagging spirits. And now she was dead, cold and lonely at the dark bottom of that fathomless lake, and none of them had been the same since. Especially Cloud…
Her lower lip trembled. She tried, oh how she tried, but she was no substitute for the coruscating blaze of hope that had emanated from Aeris, and had been so cruelly extinguished with one brutal thrust of a sword. They came to her now with their fears and uncertainties, and she buoyed them up, smiling until she thought she would break. She was so tired, and she had no one's shoulder to lean on but her own. Vaguely she wondered what the cool metal of the barrel would feel like, pressed against her throbbing temple…
Before the command had time to travel along nerve synapses and trigger movement, a gloved hand slid around hers from behind, releasing the hammer from its ready position. She jumped, cheerful façade falling automatically into place even as she turned, gun slipping from her fingers, returning to its rightful owner. She met his cool gaze under a fall of midnight hair, searching for evidence that he had somehow divined her intent. As always, his eyes were shuttered against her. She smiled at him, hoping he wouldn't see the brittleness concealed underneath.
"Vincent," she greeted him casually. Not too casually, she hoped. "You really shouldn't leave that thing lying around, you know. Someone could hurt themselves."
The most fleeting of frowns flickered across his face, but he said nothing. She dropped her gaze to the floor, afraid suddenly that he would see the darkness veiled in her eyes.
"Goodnight, Vincent."
The silent gunman flicked his eyes briefly to the weapon in his hand, still radiating the warmth of her skin, before turning his head to watch her uneasily as she exited the room.