Author: Beautifully Twisted
Email: skyfaiis@aol.com
Title: Nella Devozione
Pairing: Cid/Vincent (implied)
Rating: PG
Summary: Cid's angsty musings about the death of Vincent. Follow-up to "Nella Disperazione" though this could stand alone if you haven't read the previous story.
Feedback: Much appreciated.
Dedication: To all my reviewers and fellow angst whores.
They asked me why you did it, what drove you to this resolve. I haven't the answers. If I did perhaps I wouldn't be standing here now in the confines of this crypt, wondering if you can even hear me. I truly doubt it. You're gone, never to return. What lies within this coffin is nothing more than the prison that held you captive to this world. And yet I cling to this ritualistic meeting, holding onto each moment spent in your presence for it is all I have left. A marble crypt with an ebony coffin … like you.
Smooth marble and even smoother ebony.
You were beautiful. You probably never knew it, but we all did. I suppose you're beautiful even now. A delicately carved statue set in eternal slumber. Pale, flawless throughout eternity. The Mako in your bloodstream is verification of that. Forever you will remain, unchanged while empires rise and fall.
You once said that perhaps one day we would be the Ancients. Will you be their Jenova? Their link to a past long forgotten. But you wouldn't want that. I know. You were there when the first of many fatal errors were made, and for that you carried the burden of your counterfeit sins. The sins that took you away from me.
Is that why? You were a sinner and for that reason you were unworthy of life. If so, then who among us is worthy?
I told you we were all just as fucked. We all had our own inner demons. But your problems were different, weren't they? No simple words could lift you from the depression that was suffocating you. So I tried actions. Conveying affection and concern through friendship, and finally love.
No, that's a lie. I loved you when I first set eyes on you. A dark, quiet individual lingering in the shadows … you never let anyone get close. Did you feel unworthy, and for that you distanced yourself.
But you were worthy, more so than any of us.
I didn't care about past sins -I know you had more than you spoke of. You were a Turk, after all- I only cared about what was tangible, here and now. Whatever sins you had committed you lived in remorse for. You pleaded with the heavens to allow you to atone for all previous faults. You weren't a sinner, Vincent. Not any longer.
I recall hearing you sobbing brokenly on the Highwind, endlessly tortured by the lives you had taken in a previous battle. For someone who was so entwined in death, you had the deepest respect for life.
I should have comforted you then. Instead I walked away telling myself that you'd rather be alone. So many times when I should have realized that you were crying out for someone to simply hold you, I walked past. It took a single bullet for me to realize the extent of your anguish. And when I finally did, it was too late. You were too far gone, living as a bleached out shell of the man you once were. Even as I kissed you, you were already a dead man. The love I bestowed upon you came too late, for you had resigned to this fate and nothing could prevent it.
Forgive me, Vincent. Forgive me for not realizing. Forgive me for not saving you from yourself.
We could have started anew, and put all past shortcomings to rest. Perhaps you'd be lying in my arms now as I whispered soft words of love. After all, that's where you belong. Not lying here cold and still with only cobwebs and spiders to keep vigil.
I could have saved you from this crypt.
Why did they place you here? The beginning of all your nightmares … I would've taken you to Rocket Town and raised a monument in your remembrance. But they insisted we place you here, back into that damn prison. Maybe they were afraid that Chaos wouldn't die so easily. But he was part of you, and needed your sustained life. Grim satisfaction isn't it, knowing you finally killed your demons. A futile victory at too great a cost.
Now am I left with mine: an Imp that pesters me constantly saying 'what if' and 'maybe'. I'm sure you're all too familiar with those.
I loved you, Vincent. Did you know it? I loved you so very much that at times I feel as though I can't function knowing that you're not here, that you'll never be again. I miss you so badly. I try to hide it, but there are moments when it's all I can do to not pull you from this cold crypt and just hold you one last time, and weep.
I loved you. I suppose I always will.
I know now that is all you ever wanted. To love and be loved. It would've ended your pain, but I was too blind to notice.
We all were.
You were misunderstood, quiet, and eternally grieving. Time we thought would help. Little did we know time was slowly killing you. I would have taken away your pain, if only I had known then what I do now. But it's too late, my love; too late to place the blame, for it is irrevocably finished.
So I stand here and pray that we will be given another chance, if not in this world, perhaps in the next.
I thought I could save you. I was wrong. Even in the afterglow of our lovemaking you grieved. I believed you could be saved, and dreamt wistfully of our future … only to be brutally awakened with the deadly finality of gunfire. My dreams –our dreams- were shattered in that timeless moment, my love. Our dreams of a future together, where nothing could taint the blossoming love between us, crushed, destroyed by that same damnable hatred that had caused you so much pain.
You said you didn't deserve to be loved, when love was the only thing you truly needed. The only thing I needed. But no … you refused to believe that you were worthy of affection, and deserving of happiness. But what about me? What about me, Vincent? Didn't I deserve happiness? You were my happiness, why couldn't you see that? Why?
No. No tears, Vincent. So futile and selfish … after all, who could cry after knowing you? You made all other misery seem trivial. We can drown our demons and our sorrows, but you, my love, were condemned to yours.
I love you, and for your memory, I brought you a single rose. It's crimson, like your eyes, like the colour of passion and the colour of blood, all of which conspired to shatter my heart.
A rose, Vincent. Beautiful, fragile like you. Yet ensnarled with the same thorns.
And so I place this rose upon your coffin as a token of my undying love for you . . .
Ironic how its delicate petals wilted upon touching that ebony.
Just like you, Vincent. In a way, just like me. It withered and faded the moment it entered here.
So I leave you with a kiss you will never feel, and a vow of love you will never know. Goodnight, Vincent. May you finally know peace … for me there is none.
- fin
