A/N:

Because my love for Vincent Valentine and stories that make me cry as I write them seem to break through my procrastinating habits… I give you this:

——

With each endless echo of the falling water, the cold crept deeper into his core. The feeling was the most horrid of tortures — frost slowly spreading across his heart, slowing his breathing…

Without a thought, he stepped forward in the dim cave, unable to remember standing. Did it really matter? New memories never formed, never took shape. All he had were the old memories, reminiscent of a time long since past.

But then again, those memories faded as well — nothing but a vapor he had managed to contain for a short while — nothing but snow right before the spring.

He pondered these things as the eerie glow of the crystals set the cave in a pale blue light, reflecting in the puddles below. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the large cavern, and his stomach twisted as he looked up at the angelic figure, frozen in the shining, clear stone that surrounded her.

Did she feel the chill of winter? He almost asked aloud, before remembering how silent she had been lately.

Not a whisper. Not a word. No matter how many times he came to visit her in this tomb.

As the wind outside began to howl, he came to the edge of the water, his reflection meeting hers in the dark surface. He almost took a step back, ashamed of the contrast between them.

His dark, red eyes against her pale, closed lids. His scowling face against hers that held a deep but peaceful sorrow. His darkness… in the shadow of her light.

Clothed in white, she was the picture of beauty, as she had always been. While he, the cursed monster — the demon that intruded upon her sleep, could only hope it was not a sin to think of such a holy figure.

"…cent."

He looked up to her still face, only ten feet away as his breath caught in his throat. And, again, the whisper filled the cave.

"…incent." The soft sound was weak, barely audible. "Vincent..."

"I'm here." He winced at his deep growl of a voice.

She did not reply.

The silence engulfed him once more, and his breath became unsteady. He suppressed a shiver in the cold air of the cavern, looking down to his feet as his ears strained to hear her voice once more.

His eyes caught the slightest flicker of movement in the water below — the smallest ripple across the surface. It was then that he saw the ice forming around the edge of the pool, growing quickly across the face of the water. He took a half-step back, startled at the sudden movement.

"…don't…" He looked up once more as her voice filled the room. "…understand."

Understand what?

"Lucrecia?" He could feel the cold disappear for a brief moment as her name left his lips.

She was silent again, and he heard only the howling wind outside muffling the quiet crackling of the ice forming around the pool. By now, the surface of the water had completely frozen over in only a matter of seconds.

It was an odd occurrence, but his focus was instead on the pallor of her face. He blinked a few times, feeling himself shiver slightly.

Had she always been this pale?

"Vincent!"

No longer a whisper, her soft voice sounded like a shout in the silent cave. He held completely still, no longer daring to breathe.

And suddenly… he felt a pull on his heart. It was almost literal — a slight tugging that urged him forward. His lungs eventually protested, and he took in a ragged breath as he shook his head at her. He was at the edge of the pool already, the tip of his gold boot knocking in a small pebble as he inched closer.

"Vincent…"

Again, her voice sounded more desperate, more pleading…

She wanted him to come closer — yet how? Between them was about ten feet of water, covered by a thin layer of ice. If he were to cross it and the ice were to break, he would undoubtedly freeze to death.

His thoughts paused for a moment at that realization.

Something about it sounded… familiar.

Before he could place it, he felt the tugging again, and the pain — the longing it caused him was worse than any chilling water he might feel.

Hesitantly, he stepped out onto the ice, waiting for the moment he would fall through.

Another step… and he managed to take another breath. His boots provided some traction, but he could feel his heart pounding in his ears.

Maybe he was insane.

Yet another step.

Was she really calling him?

Another, and he nearly lost his footing.

Perhaps it was all in his head…

"…missed…" He looked up to her face, only an arm's length away, hidden behind the crystals that encased her body. "…you."

One more step, and he was standing in front of her, looking up into her cold, sleeping face.

"I've been here," he replied, confusion washing over his emotionless features.

His heart grew heavy as she fell silent once more. Why had she called him out here? What did distance matter for them? She couldn't — would not come out, so what did it matter that he was only a few feet closer?

With a chilled breath, he lifted his hand, softly brushing the clear stone that surrounded the body of the only woman he had ever loved — or ever would.

"Lucrecia…" His voice choked as he pulled back his hand, shutting his eyes tightly while fighting the shivers that wracked his body.

He opened his crimson eyes slightly before they widened at the sight before him. He quickly lifted his hand, confused at what he saw.

Bare skin. A pale white. Hard and rough. Blue veins visible just beneath the surface.

Shaken, he placed his hand once more on the crystal, looking up to her face in tentatively.

This time, he saw it.

A white mist — a clouded light surrounded his arm, the rest of his glove disappearing as it crept across his body. Warmth swelled within his chest, spreading down to his feet. He closed his eyes for only a moment, opening them to find a familiar blue cloth had replaced the dark leather.

A suit.

He looked up, startled to find a forgotten face reflecting back in the glassy surface.

Shorter, dark hair that was still long by many standards. A shocked expression on a face that held less pain, less years.

He stepped back, nearly tripping as he looked even higher, expecting to see her still figure in the crystal. Yet… she had disappeared.

"Lucrecia!" He found himself shouting her name as he spun around, slipping, but making it to the edge of the pool once more.

The voice that echoed back was his own, but lighter, more emotional.

His chest ached as he panicked, spinning around as he searched for her. His breath came out in painful gasps, the air filling with a light mist as he did so.

Where had she gone? How could this have happened?

This face…

He looked down at his reflection in a puddle near his now black boots.

…It was as if the last thirty years had never happened.

"You've gotten older, Vincent Valentine."

His breathing ceased. His heart stopped. He couldn't move.

Her voice… her real voice… no longer in a vision or dream, but…

"Lucrecia," he breathed, turning from the crystal pillar as his eyes fell upon her.

A slight smile gracing her lips, she paced back and forth, her hands behind her back as she usually did. "Certainly not in body, but in spirit at least." She stopped to smile a genuine grin, her cheeks a rosy color.

At the sound of her voice, the cold disappeared completely. His hands trembled, but no longer from the cold. The way she walked… the way she held herself as she talked to him…

Every detail came rushing back to him.

"Why is that, do you think?" She took a step toward him now.

"W- what?" The sound was odd in his ears — he had not stuttered in… thirty years.

She stepped across the uneven ground, somehow keeping her balance in her red heels, as she always had. "Why," she started as she stopped a few feet away to look at him sadly. "Why are you doing this?"

He shook his head, feeling his shorter hair brushing his forehead.

"Doing what?" he asked, stepping closer to her, bewildered.

She sighed, folding her hands in front of her white coat, hanging her head slightly. "Vincent," she said as if she were scolding him. "Don't act so childish."

He opened his mouth, lost for words. Was this a dream? Nothing was making sense anymore…

Suddenly, a bright light exploded to his right, next to her unmoving form. When his vision cleared, he stepped back, tripping on the lose stones. His fingers scrambled for hold on the ground as he tried to get back, stunned at what had just appeared.

"Do you understand, Vincent?" She stood next to the form calmly, gesturing.

His chest felt as if it were about to burst as his lungs cried out for oxygen. That… It couldn't be… Could it?

The dark figure cloaked in shadow was sitting on the ground, one arm resting on a raised knee. Eyes slightly closed, they looked down to the ground, just below the center of the pool. The body was covered in frost, pale skin now a deathly bluish white.

It was those eyes that haunted him — blood red, but no longer bright. There were dull — lifeless.

"That's…" he choked out, standing once more, though hunched over as if he were about to fall again. "That's not…"

"Vincent," she called, standing solemnly as she watched his reaction. "This is what you've come to? Letting yourself die?"

Die?

He shook his head franticly, his eyes screwed shut.

The cold was returning…

He remembered walking into the mouth of the cave, escaping the wind of the snowstorm. The chill had made its way into the cavern nonetheless.

…It was crawling back into his chest, freezing his heart.

Shelke — she had warned him about the storm. But he hadn't cared… he had needed to see her. See Lucrecia.

One last time.

"No!" He fell to his knees, in pain once more.

His chest ached, but not because he now remembered — remembered what he had come to do. No, his distress was from the horrible realization that this… this moment was nothing but a dream his mind was clinging to as it died.

"Vincent!"

He heard her shout, from behind him now, but he couldn't find the strength to look at her just yet.

"After all I did to keep you alive," her voice was upset, pained. "You're going to throw it away for nothing now?"

His hands trembling, he stood suddenly, turning on his heel to look at her.

"For nothing?" he shouted, the sound echoing loudly off the cavern walls. "For nothing?"

He closed the gap between them in an instant, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I would never…" He shook his head, gasping. "…not for nothing."

He looked into her deep eyes, his grip tightening on her. "For you," he murmured. "To be with you!" His voice rose slightly with each word.

She stared at him unresponsively for a few agonizing moments before she spoke.

"You want to die, Vincent."

It wasn't a question, though he answered nonetheless.

"Yes," he growled.

——

With a pained gasp, Shelke sat upright on the little cot in the darkness of the room. As her eyes adjusted, her heartbeat slowly calmed as she remembered where she was. She looked over to her left to make sure she hadn't woken the two children, still asleep in their beds. The boy slept silently, but the young girl who was visiting… Marlene twitched in her sleep fitfully.

Her emotionless face was illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the window, and she made sure to open the door as silently as she could.

Did she have much time?

Though in a rush, she descended the stairs slowly but with difficulty. Each step had a creak, a low moaning that would surely give her away. Outside, the chilling December wind shook the windows in their frames, making her jump.

No, not much time at all, she reasoned.

She jumped down to the last step, running around the bar in the darkness towards the door. With a cry of surprise, she knocked over a barstool painfully. Biting her lip, she stood on one foot while holding the other with her hand. She shook her head with a sigh.

She had to hurry.

Finally, she found the coat rack by the back door, feeling around for her tan jacket. She searched the floor for her matching boots, hidden somewhere in the mess of shoes on the rug. Where…?

The light overhead switched on without warning, and she looked up into Tifa's curious, not to mention tired, face.

"Shelke?" She put a hand on her hip, the other brushing her dark hair out of her eyes with a yawn. "What are you doing?"

Stupid barstool.

"I…"

Cloud appeared behind her now as well, nearly half asleep but with the same emotionless face he always carried.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, crossing his arms.

She stood quickly, brushing herself off as she sighed, looking up at their questioning faces.

"Vincent is in trouble."